'Where shall we land you, sweet?'--Swinburne. br br All listlessly we float br Out seaward in the boat br That beareth Love. br Our sails of purest snow br Bend to the blue below br And to the blue above. br Where shall we land? br br We drift upon a tide br Shoreless on every side, br Save where the eye br Of Fancy sweeps far lands br Shelved slopingly with sands br Of gold and porphyry. br Where shall we land? br br The fairy isles we see, br Loom up so mistily-- br So vaguely fair, br We do not care to break br Fresh bubbles in our wake br To bend our course for there. br Where shall we land? br br The warm winds of the deep br Have lulled our sails to sleep, br And so we glide br Careless of wave or wind, br Or change of any kind, br Or turn of any tide. br Where shall we land? br br We droop our dreamy eyes br Where our reflection lies br Steeped in the sea, br And, in an endless fit br Of languor, smile on it br And its sweet mimicry.