II.

THE LAND WITHOUT A NAME.

Where the Sun sails bold on the Sea of Gold Past the Violet Islands fair, And the ragged shapes of the Rosy Capes And the Castles of the Air, Can you call aright all that country bright That is washed by waves like flame? ’Tis the coast admired, ’tis the clime desired— ’Tis the Land Without a Name!

And the way to go, since you fain would know, Is to charter the Crescent Ship, All of silver pale, with a cobweb sail, And merrily does she dip! There’s a crew of Hopes at her filmy ropes, And on board that ship of fame Many a longing Dream seeks the shores agleam Of the Land Without a Name!