Upon the beach I walked at eve alone And listened to the moaning of the sea, And watched the sails that in the moonlight shone As the horizon. Straightway unto me There came a voice, as from below the waves: "The less'ning sail will soon be seen no more, And as I sweep thy footprints from the shore, Time mosses o'er a world of unknown graves. And it is well. If men could not forget, With phantoms all the world would peopled be; The ghosts of buried joys their hearts would fret-- A flood of tears, like blood, would drown the sea. Rail not at Time--the healer of thy woes-- As of those thou hast forgotten, shall be thy last repose."