A thrilling of winds through the forest,
A murmur of waves on the shore,
A gleam from the spray kissed by sunlight,
While dancing the silver sands o'er;
Wave music, with low bird-songs blended,
I heard, as I stood on the shore. The tiny waves rolled to the shoreward,
And laughingly broke at our feet,
And then with a light, graceful motion,
Played softly their own bright retreat;
The sands and the waves met as gently
As warm lips of friends when they greet. Along by the shore, the bright waters
Lay shallow upon the white sand,
But I saw them grow deeper and darker
As they glided away from the strand;
And they danced not so gay 'neath the sunlight,
As when they were close by the land. And this was, methought, but a picture,
The mapping of life's changeful wave
From the time our life-boat's in motion,
Till it reaches its haven--the grave;
And the soul seeks those mystical borders
Where rolls immortality's wave. In the blush of life's beautiful morning,
We launch our frail barque on the tide,
Where dances the sunlight of pleasure,
And joy like a phantom doth glide;
But soon drifts our light into shadow,
And our treasures are scattered full wide. "Bound outward, " the current grows swifter,
And paler the light that had hung
Like a halo upon the bright ripples,
To list to the song that they sung;
For now through the gathering shadows
Its half stolen glory is flung. A murmur of winds in the forest,
A music of waves on the shore,
A gleam from the spray kissed by sunlight,
As 't was dancing the silver sands o'er;
I thought it like life, and was thankful
'Twas as bright on the opposite shore.