Lost Atlantis, by Florence Peacock

Lost Atlantis

Lost Atlantis sleeping lies
Far away 'mid sunny skies,
And the sea is ever blue;
Naught is old, and naught is new.
All is as it wont to be
In the ages past. But we,
We have lost the path which leads
To these flower-strewn, grassy meads.
Yet at times there comes a breeze,
Spicy wind from southern seas,
Where we sailed in days of yore
Youthful days that are no more.
And while still those breezes sigh,
Past and Present, drawing nigh,
Hand in hand together stand,
And before us that lost land
Lies, as long ago it lay
In the days when life was May.
Naught is changed, and all is there;
Voices fill the silent air.
All the friends of days gone by
We can see them drawing nigh,
All the hopes, the joys, the fears,
Through the snows of long past years.
We are back again once more,
With the days that went before. * * * * * But the breeze has passed away,
And no longer it is May:
Vanished all, and hushed each voice,
But our inmost hearts rejoice,
For although Atlantis lies
Hidden ever from our eyes,
Yet some day, when all is done;
And night comes, the setting sun
Will uplift the mists, and we
That old pathway then shall see,
No more Atlantis lost will be.

poems.one - Florence Peacock

Florence Peacock