AT FLOOD.
ALL winter long it ebbed and ebbed, and left the cold earth bare.
No pulse of growth the bare boughs stirred, no hope the frozen air;
No twitters cheered the snow-heaped nests, no songs the vine and trees,
As outward, outward swept the tide, and left the world to freeze.
Then came a subtle change,—a time when for a moment’s space
Life seemed to stay its flying feet and cease its outward race,
And, poised as waves poise, turn its face toward the deserted shore,