From time to time I tweet about a piece of poetry which has caught my imagination.  We all have our favourites and one of mine is Longfellow. These two verses are a particular favourite of mine:

The Tide rises, the tide falls.

The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveller hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.

Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in the darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands,
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.

Married twice, Longfellow lost his first wife when she miscarried and his second wife died from burns when her dress caught fire. Longfellow never fully recovered from her death.

‘Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.’