George Crosby

(Weston, Somerset)

Finis - Poem by George Crosby

The dreaded tide of death
sweeps on across
The narrow beaches of my tiny
life
While still the castle of my dreams
is but begun and eagerly I seek to build
The ramparts and the walls, which
yet will fall
With the first onrush of the chilly sea

And all around me others likewise
toil
Some near the waters, many further back
Yet each and every one with ardent care
Strives to outdo his neighbours and to bring
Alone his edifice above the height
Common to those who stand within his view

Yet all may tell by glancing at the edge
White foam marked on the bubbling sand nearby
That other efforts greater far than theirs
Have long since vanished crumbled by the waves
And soon those self same waves will cover all
The works that now laboriously grow

And so because of this it well might be
That men should join their powers and kindly try
To make one effort for the general cause
Complete it, giving share of joy to each
Then could we pleasure take
with labour done
And laughing watch th'enroaching waters rise


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Read poems about / on: joy, sea, alone, death, life, power, beach, water, work, dream, rose



Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 2, 2003



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