~What is whispering its name, in the cemetery by the sea?
Every year, the sea creeps closer...

Invisibly the tides will course beneath your stone
Crying to the bluffs, through the salt sea's cellars;
And the shades of serpents, fill the ravening tombs,
Your bed the straying source for watery channels.

Sunk to the green limits of far dolphined depths,
The children of coral trees are busy splicing wind;
And where once the dead grew their knotted hair like roe,
Fair mermen sleep in beds of weeds, where magic grows.

Till the eye of the ghost unlatch the colored sky
Where blows the faith, of starfish wheeling by.