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Last of Ebb, and Daylight Waning.

Part of the cluster FANCIES AT NAVESINK.


Last of ebb, and daylight waning, Scented sea-cool landward making, smells of sedge and salt  
With many a half-caught voice sent up from the eddies, Many a muffled confession—many a sob and whisper'd word, As of speakers far or hid.
How they sweep down and out! how they mutter! Poets unnamed—artists greatest of any, with cherish'd lost  
Love's unresponse—a chorus of age's complaints—hope's last  
Some suicide's despairing cry, Away to the boundless waste, and  
  never again return.
On to oblivion then! On, on, and do your part, ye burying, ebbing tide! On for your time, ye furious debouché!

Part of the cluster FANCIES AT NAVESINK.

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