Absorbed I watch their ceaseless dashing,
Myself as still as bush or tree.
Within arise fond memories
Of moonlight evenings long since vanished,
Once full of life as waves and breeze,
From this familiar shore now banished.
Hushed in the grove is the birds' song,
Spring's blossoms tempests caused to perish;
Yet what through eye and ear did throng
The heart for evermore will cherish.