THE HARBOR OF DREAMS

by: Frank Dempster Sherman (1860-1916)

      NLY a whispering gale
      Flutters the wings of the boat;
      Only a bird in the vale
      Lends to the silence a note
      Mellow, subdued, and remote:
      This is the twilight of peace,
      This is the hour of release,
      Free of all worry and fret,
      Clean of all care and regret,
      When like a bird in its nest
      Fancy lies folded to rest.
       
      This is the margin of sleep;
      Here let the anchor be cast;
      Here in forgetfulness deep,
      Now that the journey is past,
      Lower the sails from the mast.
      Here is the bay of content,
      Heaven and earth interblent;
      Here is the haven that lies
      Close to the gates of surprise;
      Here all like Paradise seems --
      Here is the harbor of dreams.

"The Harbor of Dreams" is reprinted from The Century, vol. 39, issue 6 (April 1890).

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