Oh, lovely island of the isles,
Sleeping on a bed of stone.
shrowded in a cloak of mist,
with sea enclosing you for miles.
I listen to your ancient rocks,
for some reply or conversation.
but silence still from fields to docks,
as if in secrete contemplation.
Proud island, rising, stretching from the ocean,
Give us days of light and nights so dark.
A place now entwined with my emotion,
Silent, stirring, enchanting, Sark.