ISLAND
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Sprinkled along the waste of years
Full many a soft green isle appears.—JOHN KEBLE, The Christian Year
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There is no lover like an island shore
For lingering embrace;
No tryst so faithful as the turning tide
At its accustomed place.—MRS. DWIGHT MORROW, Islands
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In settling an island, the first building erected by a Spaniard would be a church; by a Frenchman, a fort; by a Dutchman, a warehouse; and by an Englishman, an alehouse.—Proverb
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Many a green isle needs must be
In the deep wide sea of Misery,
Or the mariner, worn and wan,
Never thus could voyage on.—SHELLEY, Lines Written Amongst the Euganean Hills
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Summer isles of Eden lying in dark-purple spheres of sea.—TENNYSON, Locksley Hall
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I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.—W. B. YEATS, The Lake Isle of Innisfree
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