| |
| ACROSS the narrow beach we flit, | |
| One little sandpiper and I; | |
| And fast I gather, bit by bit, | |
| The scattered driftwood bleached and dry. | |
| The wild waves reach their hands for it, | 5 |
| The wild wind raves, the tide runs high, | |
| As up and down the beach we flit,— | |
| One little sandpiper and I. | |
| |
| Above our heads the sullen clouds | |
| Scud black and swift across the sky: | 10 |
| Like silent ghosts in misty shrouds | |
| Stand out the white light-houses high. | |
| Almost as far as eye can reach | |
| I see the close-reefed vessels fly, | |
| As fast we flit along the beach,— | 15 |
| One little sandpiper and I. | |
| |
| I watch him as he skims along, | |
| Uttering his sweet and mournful cry; | |
| He starts not at my fitful song, | |
| Or flash of fluttering drapery; | 20 |
| He has no thought of any wrong, | |
| He scans me with a fearless eye. | |
| Stanch friends are we, well tried and strong, | |
| The little sandpiper and I. | |
| |
| Comrade, where wilt thou be to-night | 25 |
| When the loosed storm breaks furiously? | |
| My driftwood-fire will burn so bright! | |
| To what warm shelter canst thou fly? | |
| I do not fear for thee, though wroth | |
| The tempest rushes through the sky: | 30 |
| For are we not God’s children both, | |
| Thou, little sandpiper, and I? | |
| |
