A sun-bright; summer rest,
In which I glide through shade and gleam
Past islands of the blest

How beautiful! "How beautiful!"
The quiet hills reply,
And each responsive cliff gives back
Its answer to the sky;--
"How beautiful!" the waves repeat,
And every cloudlet smiles,
And writes its answer on the green
Of countless summer isles.

'Tis past--this first, last, only look!--
And now, away, away,
To bear alone in Memory's book
The sunshine of to-day;
Yet oft, 'neath other skies than these,
With other scenes in view,
O isles of beauty, sunny seas,
I shall remember you!




LOOK UP


Christian, lookup? thy feet may slide;
This is a slippery way!