The Gates of Time and Other Poems

by Frederick George Scott




Love once wandered on the shore
    Where these lonely mountains stand,
And the surf for evermore
    Whitens down the waste of sand.

Here are footprints! see, he went

    By the sea’s edge in his play;
Here perchance his bow was bent,
    And his target was the spray.

There he stooped and wrote his name—
    Straggling letters by the tide—

And when sunset bursts in flame
    Over shore and mountain-side,

Brightly will the letters glow,
     Golden will those footprints be,
Made by young Love long ago

    As he wandered by the sea.