Monday, June 19, 2006

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand.

How few! Yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep! While I weep!

O GOD! Can I not grasp
One with a tighter clasp!
O GOD! Can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?

Is what we see or seen
A dream within a dream?

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