Poems (Spofford)/A Wreck

A WRECK.
They walked along the murmuring shore:
High was the tide, and near and wide
In flashing hints of iris tints
Each wave its splendid foam-wreath bore.

Faint in the purple east, and far,
One bending sail swelled on the gale;
The tide was full, but white as wool
The breakers combed beyond the bar.

They saw no breakers' angry bale
Lift into sight its deathly light;
They only saw the laughing flaw,
And all their hope was on the sail.

They walked again beside the shore:
The tide was down, the sands were brown,
And fleck on fleck of one great wreck
Strewed all its barren beauty o'er.