The whispering of the golden trees Carries sweetness in their arms; Where light arrays the cool cool breeze, And love dispels all alarms.
In this Eden, the heart runs free, A chorus to every sigh; We dance beneath the sun-locked lea, As the shadows pass to fly.
Oh soft is the way the dusk returns, With a gentle sigh in force; For in the dawn, our spirit yearns, To understand its source.
- Alfred Lord Tennyson