IMPRESSION DE VOYAGE
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HE sea was sapphire coloured, and the skyBurned like a heated opal through the air;We hoisted sail; the wind was blowing fairFor the blue lands that to the eastward lie.From the steep prow I marked with quickening eyeZakynthos, every olive grove and creek,Ithaca’s cliff, Lycaon’s snowy peak,And all the flower-strewn hills of Arcady.The flapping of the sail against the mast,The ripple of the water on the side,The ripple of girls’ laughter at the stern,The only sounds:—when ’gan the West to burn,And a red sun upon the seas to ride,I stood upon the soil of Greece at last!
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