The Enviable Isles


From "Rammon."

Through storms you reach them and from
    storms are free.
  Afar descried, the foremost drear in hue,
But, nearer, green; and, on the marge, the sea
  Makes thunder low and mist of rainbowed
But, inland, where the sleep that folds the hills
A dreamier sleep, the trance of God, instills—
  On uplands hazed, in wandering airs
Slow-swaying palms salute love's cypress tree
  Adown in vale where pebbly runlets croon
A song to lull all sorrow and all glee.
Sweet-fern and moss in many a glade are here.
  Where, strewn in flocks, what cheek-flushed
    myriads lie
Dimpling in dream—unconscious slumberers
  While billows endless round the beaches die.


facebook share button twitter share button google plus share button tumblr share button reddit share button email share button share on pinterest pinterest

Create a library and add your favorite stories. Get started by clicking the "Add" button.
Add The Enviable Isles to your own personal library.

Return to the Herman Melville Home Page, or . . . Read the next poem; The Figure-Head

It ain't what you don't know that gets you into trouble. It's what you know for sure that just ain't so.