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A NAME IN THE SAND.

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Alone I walked the ocean strand;

A pearly shell was in my hand:

I stooped, and wrote upon the sand

My name—the year—the day.

As onward from the spot I passed,

One lingering look behind I cast:

A wave came rolling high and fast,

And washed my lines away.

And so, methought, ’t will shortly be

With every mark on earth from me;

A wave of dark oblivion’s sea

Will sweep across the place,

Where I have trod the sandy shore

Of time, and been to be no more,

Of me—my day—the name I bore,

To leave nor track, nor trace.

And yet, with Him, who counts the sands,

And holds the waters in his hands,

I know a lasting record stands,

Inscribed against my name,

Of all, this mortal part has wrought;

Of all, this thinking soul has thought;

And from these fleeting moments caught

For glory, or for shame.

The Mother's Dream, and Other Poems

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