Kenfig Sands.
Great light 27-11-14.
Could I but lie in the ocean deep,
'Neath the slumbering surges ever to sleep,
Where waves eternal stir the sands
And move the seaweeds' sodden strands;
Buried for aye in the Sea,s deep bed;
Dead to the world:to myself not dead;Listening there to the breakers' boom,Watching the sunlight's filtered gloom' till the sea shall cast up her dead.
Ronald Gregory Walker.
'written about two years before he was buried from the poop of the Finnish full rigged ship Grace Harwar on the road to Cape Horn.
From the book By Way of Cape Horn. Alan Villiers 1930.
Kenfig Sands.
Great light 27-11-14.
Could I but lie in the ocean deep,
'Neath the slumbering surges ever to sleep,
Where waves eternal stir the sands
And move the seaweeds' sodden strands;
Buried for aye in the Sea,s deep bed;
Dead to the world:to myself not dead;Listening there to the breakers' boom,Watching the sunlight's filtered gloom' till the sea shall cast up her dead.
Ronald Gregory Walker.
'written about two years before he was buried from the poop of the Finnish full rigged ship Grace Harwar on the road to Cape Horn.
From the book By Way of Cape Horn. Alan Villiers 1930.