• Author: Miller, Joaquin
• Editor: B-7413
• Newspaper: The Umpire volume 6
• Page Number:
• Date: 7 11 1917
• Tags:
• poetry

THE FORTUNATE ISLE

You sail and you seek for the Fortunate Isles, The old Greek Isles of the yellow bird’s song; Then steer straight on through the watery miles, Straight on, straight on, and you can’t go wrong. Nay, not to the left; nay, not to the right; But on, straight on, and the Isles are in sight, The Fortunate Isles, where the yellow birds sing And life lies girt with a golden ring. These Fortunate Isles, they are not far; They lie within reach of the lowliest door; You can see them gleam by the twilight star; You can hear them sing by the moon’s white shore. Nay, never look back! Those levelled gravestones They were landing-steps; they were steps unto thrones Of glory for souls that have sailed before And have set white feet on the fortunate shore. And what are the names of the Fortunate Isles? Why, Duty and Love and a large Content. Lo! these are the isles of the watery miles That God let down from the firmament. Lo! Duty and Love, and a true man’s trust, Your forehead to God and your feet in the dust; Lo! Duty and Love, and a sweetbabe’s smiles, And there, O friend, are the Fortunate Isles.

—Joaquin Miller.