  The once-flashed beauty borne on a breaking wave Dies to a requiem sung on the sounding shore; Beyond all reach of mortal power to save In spray-crowned glory it passes for evermore. Would that the heart could capture and hold and keep The glory of beauty, sped in a moment's space! Could fix for ever the splendour and strength and sweep Of the wind-wild wave, in its riotous rapturous race! Brave brief hopes, are you not sped as the wave— Sped to a requiem sighed on a wreck-strewn shore? While memory murmurs in dreams that you once were brave, And sadness softly sighs that you are no more. |
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