Far over seas an island is Whereon when day is done A grove of tossing palms Are printed on the sun.
And all about the reefy shore Blue breakers flash and fall. There shall I go, methinks, When I am done with all.
Have I no castle then in Spain, No island of the mind, Where I can turn and go again When life shall prove unkind?
Up, sluggard soul! and far from here Our mountain forest seek; Or nigh enchanted island, steer Down the desired creek.