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CALYPSO'S island home. The billows break With silvery murmur on the coral beach;
Athwart the gleaming cliffs the sea-mews screech. Four streams, down-trickling from an azure lake, Mid rocks and ferns a rhythmic rippling make,
And to the violets ceaseless action preach. Through every forest glade and curving reach The fragrance of the incense Zephyrs take Calypso kindles in her mystic cave. Without, from where the swaying palm-trees nod,
Ulysses wanders by the crisping wave, And longs to tread once more his native sod,
Rejects a Goddess' love his home to crave, And lands that would have pleased a very God.
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