Tide be runnin' the great world over.
 'Twas only last June month I mind that we
 Was thinkin' the toss and call in the breast of the lover
 So everlastin' as the sea.

 Here's the same little fishies that sputter and swim,
 Wi' the moon's old glim on the grey, wet sand:
 An' him no more to me or me to him
 Then the wind goin' over my hand.

I first heard the poem when it was read by a visiting lecturer at our high school about 1947. It kept ringing in my head, but I could never find it or quote it completely. All I could recall was that it was written by a woman poet with a name that began with “M”. For years I tried all of the usual suspects, but never found it. Then I tried www.Dogpile.com…. and found http://www.execpc.com/~jon/sealove.html but without an author. Given the title I went back into Dogpile and found
http://www.recmusic.org/lieder/m/mew/sealove.html with the author Charlotte Mew (1869-1928)…

Given that information with Dogpile again under http://www.sappho.com/poetry/historical/c_mew.html I found a full biography…

At 71 I found a poem that massively impressed me in my youth, when such ephemeral relationships were common (and much regretted).

Luckily, it is not the story of my life.

— Tom Lincoln