Cuba

What sounds arouse me from my slumbers light?   
“Land ho! all hands, ahoy!”—I ’m on the deck:   
’T is early dawn: the day-star yet is bright;   
A few white vapory bars the zenith fleck;   
And lo! along the horizon, bold and high,           
The purple hills of Cuba! Hail, all hail!   
Isle of undying verdure, with thy sky   
Of purest azure! Welcome, odorous gale!   
O scene of life and joy! thou art arrayed   
In hues of unimagined loveliness.           
Sing louder, brave old mariner! and aid   
My swelling heart its rapture to express;   
For, from enchanted memory, nevermore   
Shall fade this dawn sublime, this fair, resplendent shore.