Greece by Oscar Wilde

The sea was sapphire coloured, and the sky
Burned like a heated opal through the air;
We hoisted sail; the wind was blowing fair
For the blue lands that to the eastward lie.
From the steep prow I marked with quickening eye
Zakynthos, every olive grove and creek,
Ithaca's cliff, Lycaon's snowy peak,
And all the flower-strewn hills of Arcady.
The flapping of the sail against the mast,
The ripple of the water on the side,
The ripple of girls' laughter at the stern,
The only sounds:- when 'gan the West to burn,
And a red sun upon the seas to ride,
I stood upon the soil of Greece at last!

Being that I've a good chunk of Greek in me and have always been fascinated by the culture, this poem peeked my interest. It flows nicely to a hopeful hymm beckoning those willing to listen that soon they'll reach their destination. The speaker seems almost relieved by the end of the poem. I can't help but wonder if they'd been traveling for a while and hoping for a new life in Greece? Maybe.