Percy Bysshe Shelley
The Isle
There was a little lawny islet
By anemone and violet
Like mosaic paven:
And its roof was flowers and leaves
Which the summer's breath enweaves
Where nor sun nor showers nor breeze
Pierce the pines and tallest trees
Each a gem engraves; -
Girt by many an azure wave
With which the clouds and mountains pave
A lake's blue chasm