III.

Where Homer sang the skies are blue,
And crystal clear the isles jut through
The wine flecked sea. Where beauty shed
Her glamour over fields dyed red,
No Helen flames to hearten you.
Dear lad! at last your dream comes true,
To sail the storied seas. Ah, rue
That Beauty and Romance are dead
Where Homer rang.
Where Jason steered his fearful crew
The headlands redden, while the brew
Of War steams hot and Death is fed;
And Iliads more strange and dread
The furthest page of Empire strew
Where Homer sang.