172
BY THE NORTH SEA.
12.
Wings flash through the dusk like beams;
As the clouds in the lit sky glimmer,
The bird in the graveyard gleams;
As the cloud at its wing's edge whitens
When the clarions of sunrise are heard,
The graves that the bird's note brightens
Grow bright for the bird.
13.
That the wind cannot number who guides
Are the sons of the shore and the daughters
Here lulled by the chime of the tides: