Sea love

Tide be runnin' the great world over:

'Twas only last June month I mind that we

Was thinkin' the toss and the call in the breast of the lover

So ever-lastin' as the sea.

Here's the same little fishes that sputter and swim,

Wi' the moon's old glim on the grey, wet sand;

An' him no more to me nor me to him

Than the wind goin' over my hand.