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.