The Trip to Mars
by Ella Wheeler Wilcox (1850-1919)

Oh! by and by we shall hear the cry,
   ‘This is the way to Mars.’
Come take a trip, on the morning Ship;
   It sails by the Isle of Stars.

‘A glorious view of planets new
   We promise by night and day.
Past dying suns our good ship runs,
   And we pause at the Milky Way.’

I am almost sure we will take that tour
   Together, my dear, my dear.
For, ever have we, by land and sea,
   Gone journeying far and near.

Out over the deep—o’er mountain steep,
   We have travelled mile on mile;
And to sail away to the Martian Bay,
   Oh! that were a trip worth while.

Our ship will race through seas of space
   Up into the Realms of Light,
Till the whirling ball of the earth grows small,
   And is utterly lost to sight.

Through the nebulous spawn where planets are born,
   We shall pass with sails well furled,
And with eager eyes we will scan the skies,
   For the sights of a new-made world.

From the derelict barque of a sun gone dark,
   Adrift on our fair ship’s path,
A beacon star shall guide us afar,
   And far from the comet’s wrath.

Oh! many a start of pulse and heart
   We have felt at the sights of land.
But what would we do if the dream came true,
   And we sighted the Martian strand?

So, if some day you come and say,
   They are sailing to Mars, I hear.
I want you to know I am ready to go, —
   All ready, my dear, my dear.

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