Rocks will break the oceans top

and spill great sailors to their graves,

where hulls of ships become mere crop,

becalmed, at rest in coastal caves...

 

echoes of the timbers split

the wash and swell unseen by men,

blown by winds where lovers sit

whose hearts may never love again.

 

All men are wrecks upon some shore

their journey's spent, their cargo lost.

For time and tides will wait no more

each voyage sunk beneath its cost.