Clinton Scollard

The Tides

Through rush and reed
The long, strong tides recede,
Jostle and surge,
And toss and urge,
And foam and merge,
Where lily roots shine bright like bronzen brede.

  "Haste! haste!"
That is their cry;
Back to the mother waste
They fleet, they fly,
Again to be embraced—
Again to be a part
Of that great heart!

As set the tides, so we,
After the stress and roar
Along life's shore,
Shall one day set toward the eternal sea!