The Rhythm of Life

"Come back, to the tidal sun,"

The Angel of Morning said.

"There are no more songs to be won

From the sad new pulseless dead;

But the pine-wood throbs with the truth

It sang to the heart of a boy!

Come back, to the hills of youth,

Enjoyer and giver of joy.

"Come back, to the tidal sea

And its great storm-guiding tune,

By the service of law set free

To sing with the sun and the moon;

To pulse with the blood and the breath,

And to ebb ere the flow can cloy,

In the rhythm of life and death,

Enjoyer and giver of joy."