ON THE BEACH.

NIGHT, a grey sky, a ghostly sea,

The soft beginning of the rain:

Black on the horizon, sails that wane

Into the distance mistily.

The tide is rising, I can hear

The soft roar broadening far along;

It cries and murmurs in my car

A sleepy old forgotten song.

Softly the stealthy night descends,

The black sails fade into the sky:

Is this not, where the sea-line ends,

The shore-line of infinity?

I cannot think or dream: the grey

Unending waste of sea and night,

Dull, impotently infinite,

Blots out the very hope of day.