The sea laments while the hooded
    moon he harrows
Harrows the countless unknown
    graves of men
Who fell among stormy seas,
Men who today are remembered still
By tall stories
Told in their honour to bedtime
    children
Before they journey out to sleep
Into the wide realms of imagery,
    colourful and wild,
Breathing shadows onto a night of
    deserted streets
Drenched black slates and steeples.