The Marshes

Between the dun sea-grass the river winds,
  Slender and silvered 'neath the quiet hills;
  The sun is low, now its warm light thrills,
With faintest rose, to beauty all it finds.

Beyond the bar the ocean's voices beat -
  The mighty searchings of its ceaseless heart.
  Low heard, its longings seem but to impart
A fuller stillness to this far retreat.

Not gifted with exultant voice to ring,
  The languid waves scarce whisper on the shore
  And yet in crimson flame-points more and more
They paint the evensong they cannot sing.

The glory wanes, a heron from the sands,
  In outline dim, against the twilight bay,
  Sees earth and heaven pass in dusk away.
Content, in utter, desolate peace he stands.

- Anna I. Miller, 1909.