And the odorous scent, the spicy balm
Of its isle it will bear to me,
As I stand on the shore, in the magic calm.
And my ship come in from sea.

It is laden with all that is sweet
Of the beauty of every clime;
Slowly and proudly 'twill glide to my feet
In the eve of that fair "Sometime,"
Before me its sails will be furled,
A princess I shall be,
Crowned with the wealth of the world,
When my ship comes in from sea.

Sweet faces I then shall see,
Tender, undoubting, true,
Soft hands will be stretched to me
With a welcome I never knew;
In the peace of such tenderness
I shall rest forevermore,
And weep in my perfect bliss,
As I never wept before.

Sometimes I think it is not far
And I bend my head and list,
For I think I see a slender spar
Gleam through the golden mist;
And I fancy I hear the sound
Of wind in a silken sail,
And an odor rare from Eastern ground,