LEAVES ON THE TIDE
I
LEAVES ON THE TIDE
Who that sees a flowing tide
Can resist the wish to throw,
On its subtle influence,
Leaf or hke, to see it go?
I cannot: the stream goes by,
And I drop upon it here,
From the rose of life, a leaf,
Light and warm, or brown and sere.
If you see the warm and light
Floating down and down to you,
You will know the heart is near,
Whence the bud so lately grew.
If you see the brown alone,
Here or not though I may be,
You will know that sun and rain
Somewhere have been sweet to me.
So upon the creeping tide
Now and then a leaf I throw;
If a heart shall greet it, well;
If it sink,—the roses grow.
1
