THE HAVEN

by BERTON BRALEY

("Little Islands tucked away down under the Line."—Kipling.)

  THERE'S an Island somewhere down below the Line,
   It's an Island that I've never even seen,
  Where the level beach is delicate and fine,
   And the sea is like an opal, blue and green.
Oh, the long tides ebb and flow there and I'm simply sick to go there
  Where the phosphorescent combers glow and shine,
And the cockatoos are screaming and the tropic stars are gleaming
  On an Island somewhere down below the Line!

  I am harnessed in the yoke of everyday;
   I am fettered to the humdrum and the dull,
  But my thoughts are always wandering away
   On the highroad of the eagle and the gull.
Far away from care and canker there's a dream ship drops her anchor
  In a blue lagoon of coraline design,
And a slow tide gently heaves me and a dream boat takes and leaves me
  On an Island somewhere down below the Line.

  There I swing a golden hammock, and a breeze
   Brings the heavy scent of jungle-growth and bloom,
  And the coconuts are falling from the trees,
   And I hear the far-off breakers roar and boom.
It's a dream of drowsy beauty that is kept from me by duty;
  It's a glamour never, never to be mine,
But I still can hold the vision of a loafing-spot elysian
  On an Island somewhere down below the Line!