Upon the beach I walked at eve alone
And listened to the moaning of the sea,
And watched the sails that in the moonlight shone
As the horizon. Straightway unto me
There came a voice, as from below the waves:
'The less'ning sail will soon be seen no more,
And as I sweep thy footprints from the shore,
Time mosses o'er a world of unknown graves.
And it is well. If men could not forget,
With phantoms all the world would peopled be;
The ghosts of buried joys their hearts would fret-
A flood of tears, like blood, would drown the sea.
Rail not at Time-the healer of thy woes-
As of those thou hast forgotten, shall be thy last repose.'