An Inn for Journeying Thoughts/The Islander

by William James Roe

 

THE ISLANDER

Upon this island star of space
I hear the thundrous billows break;
Strange scenes arise before my face;
I start and stare—alive, awake.

Far seaward glints a parting sail;—
'Twas mine, 'twas mine, but how and when
I cannot tell, for memories fail
Of spirit things in lands of men.

Was I the captain of the barque
Whose crew rebelled and left me here?
O silence, answer; tell, O Dark,
Was I myself the mutineer?"