Classic Poem

Last of Ebb, and Daylight Waning
Last of ebb, and daylight waning,
Scented sea-cool landward making, smells of sedge and salt incoming,
With many a half-caught voice sent up from the eddies,
Many a muffled confession — many a sob and whisper'd word,
As of speakers far or hid.

How they sweep down and out! how they mutter!
Poets unnamed — artists greatest of any, with cherish'd lost designs,
Love's unresponse — a chorus of age's complaints — hope's last words,
Some suicide's despairing cry, Away to the boundless waste, and never again return .

On to oblivion then!
On, on, and do your part, ye burying, ebbing tide!
On for your time, ye furious debouche!