I OFTEN wander on the beach <br />Where once, so brown of limb, <br />The biting air, the roaring surf <br />Summoned me to swim. <br /> <br />I see my old abundant youth <br />Whee combers lean and spill, <br />And though I taste the foam no more <br />Other swimmers will. <br /> <br />Oh, good exultant strength to meet <br />The arching wall of green, <br />To break the crystal, swirl, emerge <br />Dripping, taut, and clean. <br /> <br />To climb the moving hilly blue, <br />To dive in ecstasy <br />And feel the salty chill embrace <br />Arm and rib and knee. <br /> <br />What brave and vanished laughter then <br />And tingling thighs to run, <br />What warm and comfortable sands <br />Dreaming in the sun. <br /> <br />The crumbling water spreads in snow, <br />The surf is hissing still, <br />And though I kiss the salt no more, <br />Other swimmers will.<br /><br />Christopher Morley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-old-swimmer/
