In Memory of

Daniel Patrick Ralston

I stand amid the roar Of a surf tormented shore, And I hold within my hand Grains of the golden sand- How few! yet how they creep Through my fingers to the deep While I weep--while I weep! O God! can I not grasp Them with a tighter clasp? O God! can I not save One from the piteous wave? Is all that we see or seem But a dream within a dream? --Edgar Allan Poe