A desert of weed and water-darkened stone under my western windows br The ebb lasted all afternoon, br And many pieces of humanity, men, women, and children, gathering shellfish, br Swarmed with voices of gulls the sea-breach. br At twilight they went off together, the verge was left vacant, an br evening heron br Bent broad wings over the black ebb, br And left me wondering why a lone bird was dearer to me that many people. br Well: rare is dear: but also I suppose br Well reconciled with the world but not with our own natures br we grudge to see them br Reflected on the world for a mirror.