On the Dunes

by Sara Teasdale

If there is any life when death is over,
  These tawny beaches will know much of me,
I shall come back, as constant and as changeful
  As the unchanging, many-colored sea.

If life was small, if it has made me scornful,
  Forgive me; I shall straighten like a flame
In the great calm of death, and if you want me
  Stand on the sea-ward dunes and call my name.

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