One with the ruined sunset,
The strange forsaken sands,
What is it waits and wanders
And signs with desperate hands?
What is it calls in the twilight —
Calls as its chance were vain?
The cry of a gull sent seaward
Or the voice of an ancient pain?
The red ghost of the sunset,
It walks them as its own,
These dreary and desolate reaches...
But O that it walked alone!