The tide comes in, a surge from the great sea,
And every little muddy creek and inlet
Now sweltering in the heat, will soon be filled
With the salt sweetness; even as sleep comes
After a term of toil to the tired brain,
A-surge from out the infinite, and fills
All of life's inlets with a dewy ease.
Sleep Compared To The Sea.
written byRobert Crawford
© Robert Crawford