A Sea Song

In the days before the high tide
 Swept away the towers of sand
Built with so much care and labour
 By the children of the land,


Pale, upon the pallid beaches,
 Thirsting, on the thirsty sands,
Ever cried I to the Distance,
 Ever seaward spread my hands.


See, they come, they come, the ripples,
 Singing, singing fast and low,
Meet the longing of the sea-shores,
 Clasp them, kiss them once, and go.


'Stay, sweet Ocean, satisfying
 All desires into rest—'
Not a word the Ocean answered,
 Rolling sunward down the west.


Then I wept: 'Oh, who will give me
 To behold the stable sea,
On whose tideless shores for ever
 Sounds of many waters be?'