The Isles
Your reason is a snowdrift-reason,
icy in and out of season,
cold and sharded frost with flakes,
a floe no grace nor fervor wakes --
but what of reason's South Sea isles,
flush and warm with solar smiles?
Golden-hearted breeze-winds sway
to charge the night and warm the day
as, by the currents warm and clear,
the joys go dancing without fear
and, on the beach-sand wet and fair,
a sunrise gilds the scented air.
