The tide comes silently sweeping in
And embraces the warm sands in sight

The beach is lost beneath the water thin
As throes of waves thresh left and right

But soon with woe the beach is beset
For after its fill the tides' soon to take flight

To the lonely burning beach is owed a debt
Its winged messengers who beseech at closing light

Are found to rejoice the return in an aerial banquet
Of the tide to her beach in the night.