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My fingers touch the cool, firm sand,
They let it sift between them, lovingly.
The little waves, with rhythmic melody,
Hush, and whisper, and break forth in gentle song,
As they plash in and out;
As each recedes, the uncovered beach
Is quickened with a life from out the west,
And--like the dew drops on the faery webs
That breathe with color in the early morn--
Each moment it receives the warm caress
Of that far, radiant space beyond the sea,
And, shimmering momently, gives back
A quiet answer, with a flush
Of soft dream fire.