Henry Wadsworth Longfellow



              The Tide Rises, The Tide Falls


                   The tide rises, the tide falls,
                   The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
                   Along the sea-sands damp and brown
                   The traveller hastens toward the town,
                      And the tide rises, the tide falls.

                   Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
                   But the sea in the darkness calls and calls;
                   The little waves, with their soft, white hands,
                   Efface the footprints in the sands,
                      And the tide rises, the tide falls.

                   The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
                   Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
                   The day returns, but nevermore
                   Returns the traveller to the shore,
                      And the tide rises, the tide falls.

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