A ridge of sand dunes barricades the rim
Of the horizon like a gilded bar
To roving sight; a lonely point, the brim
Of earth against the moaning surge. Afar
My glances wander, wistful, ill at ease
From longing to explore those far off seas.

The murmuring tide creeps up before my feet
And leaves a shell or two, a broken spray
Of strange sea growth; then to some chill retreat
In ocean’s depths it slowly ebbs away.
How blithely thought can trail the screaming terns
Beyond the boundaries that the eye discerns!

On the horizon looms that point beside
The pathless main, a prison door to me;
For I would follow on that restless tide
To lands remote beyond a shoreless sea;
Through shimmering haze how like a magic wand
That dune ridged finger beckons me beyond!

The rolling hills enclose me and the sky
Bends overhead, but these are different things;
Somehow they do not seem to press so nigh
As that wind fretted wall of sand that rings
My little world about, and intervenes
To shut my vision from enchanted scenes.

And though in happier days I sailed those seas
Around the globe upon the buoyant trades
To Ceylon, Singapore and Celebes,
Beheld their fanes and trod their tropic glades
Those voyages leave me still unsatisfied
In this lone cottage where I now abide.

Beyond the point what vistas of romance
Of golden kingdoms still their wealth unfold:
Though fettered by the bonds of circumstance
My failing vision and my limbs grown old
Among the embers of my memories
One lingering flame, adventure, never dies.