The dust is thick on the city street,
The smoke on the city sky
Hangs dense and gray at the close of day --
And the city crowds surge by
With heavy feet through the summer heat
Like a sluggish sullen tide; ...
But hand in hand through a magic land
We are wandering side by side.
For somewhere, dear, there's a magic land
On the shores of a silver sea;
And there is a boat with turquoise sails --
With sails that are wide and free;
A boat that is whirling through the spray,
That is coming for you and me!
Somewhere, dear, there's a singing breeze
That creeps through the laughing air
To the wide-flung boughs of a blue-black tree --
It touches your joyous hair;
And the touch of it is as soft and light
As a baby's lisping prayer.
Somewhere, dear, there's a bit of beach
Where the sand is warm and white;
Where the sky seems close and the drifting clouds
Are tenderly, warmly bright.
And there is a ship with turquoise sails,
With sails like a living light!
Ah, the ship is bringing us dreams come true,
And hopes that are all dew-kissed;
It is bringing us days that are all aglow
With scarlet and amethyst; . . .
Bringing us faith to find our way
Through a world that is wrapped in mist.
Our window looks on the city street,
We can glimpse the city sky;
But our hearts are gay at the close of day,
Though the tired crowds pass by
With heavy feet through the blinding heat,
Like a sullen, sluggish tide. . . .
For hand in hand through a magic land.
We are wandering side by side.
Margaret E. Sangster
