THE TIDES

By Clinton Scollard

Through rush and reed

The long, strong tides recede,

Jostle and surge,

And toss and urge,

And foam and merge,

Where lily roots shine bright like bronzen brede.

“Haste! haste!”

That is their cry;

Back to the mother waste

They fleet, they fly,

Again to be embraced —

Again to be a part

Of that great heart!

As set the tides, so we,

After the stress and roar

Along life's shore,

Shall one day set toward the eternal sea!