The Tide Recedes But Leaves Behind Bright Seashells On The Sand, The Sun Goes Down, But Gentle Warmth Still Lingers On The Land, The Music Stops, And Yet It Echoes On In Sweet Refrains.

The Tide Recedes But Leaves Behind Bright Seashells On The Sand, The Sun Goes Down, But Gentle Warmth Still Lingers On The Land, The Music Stops, And Yet It Echoes On In Sweet Refrains.

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The tide recedes but leaves behind bright seashells on the sand,
The sun goes down, but gentle warmth still lingers on the land,
The music stops, and yet it echoes on in sweet refrains...
For every joy that passes, something beautiful remains.

Related:

This land is full of trousers! this land is full of mausers!
And pussycats to eat them when the sun goes down! -- Firesign Theate...
This land is made of mountains, This land is made of mud, This land has lots of everything, For me and Elmer Fudd.
This land has lots of trousers, This land has lots of mousers, And pussycats to eat them When the sun goes down....
He makes sweet music with th' enamell'd stones, Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge He overtaketh in his pilgrimage.
-- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), The Two Gentlemen of Verona -- Act ii, Sc. 7...
All that 's bright must fade,-- The brightest still the fleete
All that 's sweet was made But to be lost when sweetest....
The sun goes down just when you need it the most. -- Jon Kirkup
Poetry withers and dries out when it leaves music, or at least imagined music, too far behind it.
Poets who are not interested in music are, or become, bad poets. -- Ezra Pound...
Every time a woman leaves off something she looks better, but every time a man leaves off something he looks worse.
-- Will Roge...