Pacific Coast

Half across the world to westward there's a harbour that I know, Where the ships that load with lumber and the China liners go, - Where the wind blows cold at sunset off the snow-crowned peaks that gleam Out across the Straits at twilight like the landfall of a dream. There's a sound of foreign voices - there are wafts of strange perfume - And a two-stringed fiddle playing somewhere in an upstairs room; There's a rosy tide lap-lapping on an old worm-eaten quay, And a scarlet sunset flaming down behind the China Sea. And I daresay if I went there I should find it all the same, Still the same old sunset glory setting all the skies aflame, Still the smell of burning forests on the quiet evening air, - Little things my heart remembers nowhere else on earth but there. Still the harbour gulls a-calling, calling all the night and day, And the wind across the water singing just the same old way As it used to in the rigging of a ship I used to know Half across the world from England, many and many a year ago. She is gone beyond my finding - gone forever, ship and man, Far beyond that scarlet sunset flaming down behind Japan; But I'll maybe find the dream there that I lost so long ago - Half across the world to westward in a harbour that I know - Half across the world from England many and many a year ago.