I STAND at sunset watching | |
| The ebbing of the sea, | |
| Hooded in sorrow, telling | |
| The beads of memory. | |
| |
| White wings in the distance flutter | 5 |
| And disappear from sight; | |
| A wreck’s lank ribs, like spectres, | |
| On the beach stand stark and white. | |
| |
| They move! Nay, ’tis the seaweed | |
| Just stirred by the evening wind, | 10 |
| With which each slimy timber | |
| Is loathsomely entwined. | |
| |
| Ah, where are the shapes of beauty | |
| That once entranced my soul, | |
| That sped with favoring breezes | 15 |
| Toward their promised goal? | |
| |
| I strain my vision seaward— | |
| I see but a misty plain; | |
| And into the heavens above me | |
| I peer, but all in vain. | 20 |
| |
| I stretch my arms in silence— | |
| I clasp but senseless air; | |
| I shout and get no answer, | |
| Though I die in my despair. | |
| |
| I list the soft, sweet rustle | 25 |
| Of their silken sails to hear; | |
| They are somewhere, surely somewhere, | |
| In this universal sphere. | |
| |
| But never a sound comes to me, | |
| But the moan of the sea on the shore; | 30 |
| I have learned its utterance plainly, | |
| “No more—no more—no more.” | |
| |
| Ah, where are the shapes of beauty | |
| Which once entranced my soul, | |
| Which sped with favoring breezes | 35 |
| Toward their promised goal? | |
| |
| Shattered on reefs of coral,— | |
| Ah, treacherous reefs, so fair!— | |
| Scattered on lonely beaches, | |
| And ledges sharp and bare; | 40 |
| |
| Foundered in wastes unsounded, | |
| Burnt on some unknown sea,— | |
| They are gone with all their treasures, | |
| Forever lost to me. | |
| |
