 | The complete poems of S. Weir Mitchell |  |
THE RISING TIDE
An idle man, I stroll at eve,
Where move the waters to and fro;
Full soon their added gains will leave
Small space for me to come and go.
Where move the waters to and fro;
Full soon their added gains will leave
Small space for me to come and go.
Already in the clogging sand
I walk with dull, retarded feet;
Yet still is sweet the lessening strand,
And still the lessening light is sweet.
I walk with dull, retarded feet;
Yet still is sweet the lessening strand,
And still the lessening light is sweet.
Newport, October 1891.
| The complete poems of S. Weir Mitchell | |