Flint and Feather (1914)/Part 2/Good-Bye

by E. Pauline Johnson

Sounds of the seas grow fainter,
  Sounds of the sands have sped;
The sweep of gales,
The far white sails,
  Are silent, spent and dead.

Sounds of the days of summer
  Murmur and die away,
And distance hides
The long, low tides,
  As night shuts out the day.