The Western Sea

O come with me to the Western Sea.
For there, in a sheltered, shingled lee,
far off from weary world, half crazy,
we’ll wander along the shore all hazy.

Was there as a boy, that the bitter breeze
would bite my cheek, till the tasselled trees
did bend their branch to form me a bower,
so I, from the cold cruel winds, could cower.

O come with me to the ocean deep,
where we will no more need to work or weep.
For winds there have changed from cold to warmer;
they promise a kinder fate than former.

For true love, like in idyllic Greece
has birthed us a golden age of peace,
so we’ll live long in that land of plenty
and feel no more than a youth of twenty

O come with me to the Western Sea:
Fair maiden, won’t you marry me?
For there, the days are always sunny
and poets’ pens, they may make some money!

I vow, as well, that we will not age,
or only strut one hour on the stage.
For like the gods, we will live forever
and night will fall upon us, not never!