There's a sound of the flutes and the lutes tonight
In the island of Nevercometrue;
In a fire-lit isle in the seas of night
Black with depth of blue;
And the man that might have been I shall dance
With woman that might have been you:
Under the world where a man remembers
More than he ever knew.
There's a noise of songs in the gongs tonight,
In the garden of Nevercometrue;
Under the trees of the terrible flowers
That bloom when the moon is blue;
And the man that never was I is wed
To the woman that never was you--
O nothing nearer than all that is,
In Nevercometrue come true.
[Published in G.K.'s Weekly, 28th March, 1925]
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Last modified: 9th September, 2008
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