SEA SPRAY ^ SMOKE DRIFT 



These vanish with form and feature, — 

 Can the creature fathom the creature 

 Whose Creator is fathomless ? 



Is this dry land sure ? is the sea sure ? 



Is there ought that shall long remain, 

 Pain, or peril, or pleasure, 



Pleasure, or peril, or pain ? 

 Shall we labour or take our leisure, 

 And who shall inherit treasure. 

 If the measure with which we measure 



Is meted to us again ? 



I am slow in learning, and swift in 



Forgetting, and I have grown 

 So weary with long sand sifting. 



T'wards the mist where the breakers moan 

 The rudderless barque is drifting 

 Through the shoals and the quicksands 



shifting — 

 In the end shall the night-wrack, lifting. 



Discover the shores unknown ? 



