At every keel-dent in the deep,
At every liquid rim,
At all wharf-lappings,
Wheresoever seaweeds creep
And fish swim,
By all sail-flappings —
Let my soul be
Endlessly.

Let me face the tidelight now,
Its glint and shiver;
The dank green smell at the bow
Of any ship
On any river —
There let my soul slip