The Beach by Winter Twilight

By George Sterling

Here is no life except the lone patrol,
  Now the cold trumpets of the north wind blow;
Sailless and sad the leaden waters roll,
  And icy foam slips up to touch the snow.

The sun, the zephyr, and the wave's caress
  Have changed or fled, departing with the birds.
Here is no maiden in her loveliness,
Nor any murmuring of tender words.

Young hearts that dreamed, may no such change be yours,
  By twilight hearths at eve regathering!
In memory the summer noon endures,
  And summer waits beyond the distant spring.

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