The people along the sand
All turn and look one way
They turn their back on the land
They look at the sea all day
As long as it takes to pass
A ship keeps raising it's hull
The wetter ground like glass
Reflects a standing gull
The land may vary more
But wherever the truth may be
The water comes ashore
And people look at the sea
They cannot look out far
They cannot look in deep
But when was that ever a bar
To any watch they keep?
Robert Frost (1874-1963)
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