I STOOD by the unvintageable sea br Till the wet waves drenched face and hair with spray, br The long red fires of the dying day br Burned in the west; the wind piped drearily; br And to the land the clamorous gulls did flee: br 'Alas!' I cried, 'my life is full of pain, br And who can garner fruit or golden grain, br From these waste fields which travail ceaselessly!' br My nets gaped wide with many a break and flaw br Nathless I threw them as my final cast br Into the sea, and waited for the end. br When lo! a sudden glory! and I saw br The argent splendour of white limbs ascend, br And in that joy forgot my tortured past.