Explore "The Happy Isles of Horace" by Eugene Field on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Oh, come with me to the Happy Isles / In the golden haze off yonder, / Where the song of the sun-kissed breeze beguiles, / And the ocean loves to wander.
Fragrant the vines that mantle those hills, / Proudly the fig rejoices; / Merrily dance the virgin rills, / Blending their myriad voices.
Our herds shall fear no evil there, / But peacefully feed and rest them; / Neither shall serpent nor prowling bear / Ever come there to molest them.
Neither shall Eurus, wanton bold, / Nor feverish drouth distress us, / But he that compasseth heat and cold / Shall temper them both to bless us.
There no vandal foot has trod, / And the pirate hosts that wander / Shall never profane the sacred sod / Of those beautiful Isles out yonder.
Never a spell shall blight our vines, / Nor Sirius blaze above us, / But you and I shall drink our wines / And sing to the loved that love us.
So come with me where Fortune smiles / And the gods invite devotion, -- / Oh, come with me to the Happy Isles / In the haze of that far-off ocean!