On the Dunes

by Sara Teasdale
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.