Posted by: W. E. Poplaski | March 29, 2009


by Charles G. D. Roberts (1860 – 1943).




Through the dusk how sighs the ebb-tide out

  Reluctant of the reed-beds! Down the sands

  It washes. Hark! Beyond the wan grey strand’s

Low limits how the winding channels grieve,

Aware the evasive waters soon will leave                                      5

  Them void amid the waste of desolate lands,

  Where shadowless to the sky the marsh expands,

And the noon heats must scar them, and the drought.


Yet soon for them the solacing tide returns

  To quench their thirst of longing. Ah, not so                              10

Works the stern law our tides of life obey!

Ebbing in the night watches swift away,

  Scarce known are fled for ever is the flow;

And in parched channel still the shrunk stream mourns.



Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s


%d bloggers like this: