Ultima Thule

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

With favoring winds, o’er sunlit seas,
We sailed for the Hesperides,
The land where golden apples grow;
But that, ah! that was long ago.

How far, since then, the ocean streams
Have swept us from that land of dreams,
That land of fiction and of truth,
The lost Atlantis of our youth!

Whither, ah, whither? Are not these
The tempest-haunted Orcades,
Where sea-gulls scream, and breakers roar,
And wreck and sea-weed line the shore?

Ultima Thule! Utmost Isle!
Here in thy harbors for a while
We lower our sails; a while we rest
From the unending, endless quest.

Next 10 Poems

• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Village Blacksmith, The
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Voices Of The Night
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Walter Von Der Vogel Weid
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Warning, The
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : White Man's Foot, The
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Witnesses, The
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Woods In Winter
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Wreck Of The Hesperus, The
• Federico Garcia Lorca : Adivinanza De La Guitarra
• Federico Garcia Lorca : Arbol, Arbol . . .

Previous 10 Poems

• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : To William E. Channing
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : To The River Charles
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : To The Driving Cloud
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : To An Old Danish Song-book
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : To A Child
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : Tide Rises, The Tide Falls, The
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : There Was A Little Girl
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : The Wreck Of The Hesperus
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : The Witnesses
• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow : The Village Blacksmith