When I was young

I use to walk

Across the sands of Dundalk bay,

Far to my left the Cooley hills,

Hour after hour the endless day.

One day I found

An ancient wreck

Beside the margin of the sea.

Bedecked in seaweed

It did seem

Both terrible and strange to me.

Nine Hundred years

Moved back in time,

And once again the tide did turn.

I saw within a waking dream

The mighty fleet of Denmark burn.

A burning ship,

A quite shore,

A flag upon a falling mast,

And still today as yesterday

A cry re-echoes from the past.

When I am dead

My ghost shall walk

Across the sands of Dundalk bay,

Far to my left the Cooley hills,

Hour after hour the endless day.

December 1960