As playful boys by ocean's side
Upon its margin trace,
Some frail memorial which the tide
Returning must efface;
Thus I upon this brittle glass
These tuneless verses scrawl,
That they, when I away shall pass,
May thought of me recall.
The waves that beat upon the strand
Wash out the schoolboy's line,
As soon some rude or careless hand
May shiver those of mine.
But though what I have written here
In thousand fragments part,
I trust my name will still be dear,
And treasured in the heart.