THE tide slips up the silver sand, Dark night and rosy day; It brings sea-treasures to the land, Then bears them all away. On mighty shores from east to west It wails, and gropes, and cannot rest. O Tide, that still doth ebb and flow Through night to golden day: -- Wit, learning, beauty, come and go, Thou giv'st -- thou tak'st away. But some time, on some gracious shore, Thou shalt lie still and ebb no more. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 13 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI: 2. HEAT by JOHN GOULD FLETCHER AT THE CARNIVAL by ANNE SPENCER TO A WESTERN BOY by WALT WHITMAN THOREAU by AMOS BRONSON ALCOTT LOST BUT FOUND by HORATIO (HORATIUS) BONAR |