Ebb-Tide by Edith Nesbit — Read

Now the vexed clouds, wind-driven, spread wings of white, / Long leaning wings across the sea and land.

The waves creep back bequeathing to our sight / The treasure-house of their deserted sand, / And where the nearer waves curl white and low, / Knee-deep in swirling brine the slow-foot shrimpers go.

Pale breadth of sand, where clamorous gulls confer, / Marked with broad arrows by their planted feet; / White rippled pools, where late deep waters were / And ever the white waves marshalled in retreat / And the grey wind in sole supremacy / O'er opal and amber cold of darkening sky and sea.