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.