Low Tide
Thebirds are gathering over the dunes,Swerving and wheeling in shifting flight,A thousand wings sweep darkly byOver the dunes and out of sight.Why did you bring me down to the seaWith the gathering birds and the fish-hawk flying,The tide is low and the wind is hard,Nothing is left but the old year dying.I wish I were one of the gathering birds,Two sharp black wings would be good for me—When nothing is left but the old year dying,Why did you bring me down to the sea?
Thebirds are gathering over the dunes,Swerving and wheeling in shifting flight,A thousand wings sweep darkly byOver the dunes and out of sight.Why did you bring me down to the seaWith the gathering birds and the fish-hawk flying,The tide is low and the wind is hard,Nothing is left but the old year dying.I wish I were one of the gathering birds,Two sharp black wings would be good for me—When nothing is left but the old year dying,Why did you bring me down to the sea?
Thebirds are gathering over the dunes,Swerving and wheeling in shifting flight,A thousand wings sweep darkly byOver the dunes and out of sight.
Thebirds are gathering over the dunes,
Swerving and wheeling in shifting flight,
A thousand wings sweep darkly by
Over the dunes and out of sight.
Why did you bring me down to the seaWith the gathering birds and the fish-hawk flying,The tide is low and the wind is hard,Nothing is left but the old year dying.
Why did you bring me down to the sea
With the gathering birds and the fish-hawk flying,
The tide is low and the wind is hard,
Nothing is left but the old year dying.
I wish I were one of the gathering birds,Two sharp black wings would be good for me—When nothing is left but the old year dying,Why did you bring me down to the sea?
I wish I were one of the gathering birds,
Two sharp black wings would be good for me—
When nothing is left but the old year dying,
Why did you bring me down to the sea?