As, When The Seaward Ebbing Tide Doth Pour Out By The Low Sand Spaces, The Parting Waves Slip Back To Clasp The Shore With Lingering Embraces,- So In The Tide Of Life That Carries Me From Where Thy True Heart Dwells, Waves Of My Thoughts And Memories Turn To Thee With Lessening Farewells; Waving Of Hands; Dreams, When The Day Forgets; A Care Half Lost In Cares; The Saddest Of My Verses; Dim Regrets; Thy Name Among My Prayers. I Would The Day Might Come, So Waited For, So Patiently Besought, When I, Returning, Should Fill Up Once More Thy Desolated Thought; And Fill Thy Loneliness That Lies Apart In Still, Persistent Pain. Shall I Content Thee, O Thou Broken Heart, As The Tide Comes Again, And Brims The Little Sea-Shore Lakes, And Sets Seaweeds Afloat, And Fills The Silent Pools, Rivers And Rivulets Among The Inland Hills?