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.