Voyagers

Where are they, that song and tale     Tell of? lands our childhood knew?     Sea-locked Faerylands that trail     Morning summits, dim with dew,     Crimson o'er a crimson sail.     Where in dreams we entered on     Wonders eyes have never seen:     Whither often we have gone,     Sailing a dream-brigantine     On from voyaging dawn to dawn.     Leons seeking lands of song;     Fabled fountains pouring spray;     Where our anchors dropped among     Corals of some tropic bay,     With its swarthy native throng.     Shoulder ax and arquebus! -     We may find it! - past yon range     Of sierras, vaporous,     Rich with gold and wild and strange     That lost region dear to us.     Yet, behold, although our zeal     Darien summits may subdue,     Our Balboa eyes reveal     But a vaster sea come to -     New endeavor for our keel.     Yet! who sails with face set hard     Westward, - while behind him lies     Unfaith, - where his dreams keep guard     Round it, in the sunset skies,     He may reach it - afterward.