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C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

Pilgrim’s Isle

By Thomas William Parsons (1819–1892)

THERE fell a charm upon the deep,

A spell upon the silent shore;

The boats, like lily-pads asleep,

Lay round me upon ocean’s floor.

O weary world of noise and strife!

O cities full of gold and guile!

How small a part ye make of life

To one that walks on Pilgrim’s Isle!

I watched the Gurnet’s double star,

Like Jove and Venus side by side,

And on the smooth waves gleaming far

Beheld its long reflection ride.

My days of youth are almost flown,

And yet, upon a night like this,

Love will not let my heart alone;

Back comes the well-remembered bliss.

Oft in thy golden locks a gleam

Of other days illumes my brain,

And in thy hand’s soft touch I seem

To feel my boyhood born again.

Ah, dearest, all will soon be o’er!

I see my sunset in thy smile;

It lingers longest on the shore,

Th’ enchanted shore, of Pilgrim’s Isle.