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