By the North Sea

Death and Sorrow and Sleep:
    Here where the slow waves creep,
This is the chant I hear,
    The chant of the measureless deep.

What was Sorrow to me
    Then, when the young life free
Thirsted for joys of earth,
    Far from the desolate sea?

What was Sleep but a rest,
    Giving to youth the best
Dreams from the ivory gate,
    Visions of God manifest?

What was death but a tale
    Told to faces grown pale,
Worn or wasted with years
    A meaningless thing to the hale?

Death and Sorrow and Sleep:
    Now their sad message I keep,
Tossed on the wet wind's breath,
    The chant of the measureless deep.

 W. L. Courtney.

From Poems of the Great War by John William Cunliffe (1916)
Image: Old ships of the 10th Cruiser squadron on blockade patrol off the Shetland Islands 1914 by Mal Wright