Once There was a quiet island, With a name. You must believe me When I say that sunlight, Impure but beautiful, Broke upon the bay, silvered The unrepentant, burning moon.
Beneath it all I kept faith with Ithaca, travelled, Travelled and travelled, Suffering much, enjoying a little; Met strange people singing New myths; made myths myself. But this lion of the sea Salt-maned, scaly, wondrous of tail, Touched with power,...
