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| THEY say that, afar in the land of the west, | |
| Where the bright golden sun sinks in glory to rest, | |
| Mid ferns where the hunter ne’er ventured to tread, | |
| A fair lake unruffled and sparkling is spread; | |
| Where, lost in his course, the rapt Indian discovers, | 5 |
| In distance seen dimly, the green Isle of Lovers. | |
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| There verdure fades never; immortal in bloom, | |
| Soft waves the magnolia its groves of perfume; | |
| And low bends the branch with rich fruitage depressed, | |
| All glowing like gems in the crowns of the east; | 10 |
| There the bright eye of nature in mild glory hovers; | |
| ’T is the land of the sunbeam,—the green Isle of Lovers! | |
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| Sweet strains wildly float on the breezes that kiss | |
| The calm-flowing lake round that region of bliss | |
| Where, wreathing their garlands of amaranth, fair choirs | 15 |
| Glad measures still weave to the sound that inspires | |
| The dance and the revel, mid forests that cover | |
| On high with their shade the green Isle of the Lover. | |
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| But fierce as the snake, with his eyeballs of fire, | |
| When his scales are all brilliant and glowing with ire, | 20 |
| Are the warriors to all save the maids of their isle, | |
| Whose law is their will, and whose life is their smile; | |
| From beauty there valor and strength are not rovers, | |
| And peace reigns supreme in the green Isle of Lovers. | |
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| And he who has sought to set foot on its shore, | 25 |
| In mazes perplexed, has beheld it no more; | |
| It fleets on the vision, deluding the view, | |
| Its banks still retire as the hunters pursue; | |
| O! who in this vain world of woe shall discover | |
| The home undisturbed, the green Isle of the Lover! | 30 |
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