There was a lullaby said once, for all the sea.
And all the sea does sing-
Of ink and blood and love spent through
The hurdling swells of blue.
Keep hold the tiller through midnight sheets-
That soak with slanted drops;
The deep-depth pressure that consumes,
If ever the sailor drowns.
And so it is that the Sea sails on,
Because she carries still-
A woman at the helm in white;
The wreckage of a graveyard below her.
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