Where Shall We Land

"_Where shall we land you, sweet_?"--Swinburne.

  All listlessly we float
  Out seaward in the boat
  That beareth Love.
  Our sails of purest snow
  Bend to the blue below
  And to the blue above.
  Where shall we land?

  We drift upon a tide
  Shoreless on every side,
  Save where the eye
  Of Fancy sweeps far lands
  Shelved slopingly with sands
  Of gold and porphyry.
  Where shall we land?

  The fairy isles we see,
  Loom up so mistily--
  So vaguely fair,
  We do not care to break
  Fresh bubbles in our wake
  To bend our course for there.
  Where shall we land?

  The warm winds of the deep
  Have lulled our sails to sleep,
  And so we glide
  Careless of wave or wind,
  Or change of any kind,
  Or turn of any tide.
  Where shall we land?

  We droop our dreamy eyes
  Where our reflection lies
  Steeped in the sea,
  And, in an endless fit
  Of languor, smile on it
  And its sweet mimicry.
  Where shall we land?

  "Where shall we land?" God's grace!
  I know not any place
  So fair as this--
  Swung here between the blue
  Of sea and sky, with you
  To ask me, with a kiss,
  "Where shall we land?"