Globes of dim light hanging in space

Resolve into lamps lining the quay

As fog rolls in from the chilly sea

Seats line the barriers facing the brine

In summer time it’s good to sit

And meditate on the rolling tide

But now, in the night and the misty air

The ocean is vanished behind its veil

With only the sound of the breaking waves

To show that the water continues its dance

Swirls round the pillars beneath the pier

And marches, retreats and marches again

Against the shores of the steadfast land

I stand on the boards and taste the gloom

Lean on the rails of the strong sea wall

And wonder, who wins the victory

In this endless, eternal war between

The dry land and the sea?

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