THE sands are in the sunlight sleeping, [The tide upon the bar is leaping;]
a
Again, again for evermore Haste the light curlings to the shore, And yet advance and yet retreat
On playful childhoodʼs daring feet, That seeks within its sandy cell The pebble bright, or purple shell.
1
Far in its clear expanse, lay wide Unruffledly that ocean tide,
Stretching away where paler grew The heavenʼs bright unclouded blue. And, far away in distance dying, Old Englandʼs cliffy coast was lying; And beautiful as summer cloud
Strange, that a space from shore to shore So soon, so easily passed oʼer, Should yet a wide distinction place ʼTwixt man and man, ʼtwixt race and race!