Classic Poem

While from zone to zone tradition,
Ever since the world began,
Vaguely prophesied transition
Of an isle not claimed by man,
Thou, with veil of pregnant mystery
O'er thy native beauty thrown,
Sleeping, lay through tomes of history,
Bosomed on the great Unknown.
Spellbound by th'ethereal silence,
Thrall-like and than song more sweet,
Broken only by winds dalliance
With the white waves at thy feet.
Dreamless in thy perfect beauty
While the years transilient ran,
Innocent of love or duty,
Fresh from God ungiven to man.
Till a voice upon the water,
Quickening what the seers told,
Woke and claimed thee, England's daughter,
Hers for aye to have and hold;
Wrapped they then her colours round thee,
And thy veil of mystery,
Orient, in which they found thee
Sank into the Southern Sea.