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Title: Wrecks Of Life
Author: J. C. Manning [ More Titles by Manning]
I sat upon the shingly Beach One sunny Summer-day, A-listening to the mystic speech Of a million waves at play. And as I watched the flowing flood I saw a little child, Who near a mimic fabric stood Of shells his hands had piled. And as he turned to go away, He said, with look of sorrow: "Build up I cannot more to-day-- "I'll come again to-morrow!" The morrow came--he thither hied-- Looked for his castle gay; But while he'd slept the cruel tide Had washt it all away. And thus in life we gaily build Shell castles in the air; Our hopes the fairy fabrics gild With colours bright and rare: But the dark flood of human strife Rolls onward while we sleep, And o'er the wrecks, where waves ran rife, We waken but to weep.
[The end] J. C. Manning's poem: Wrecks Of Life ________________________________________________
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