Death of an Old Seaman Cecil Cohen

We buried him high on a windy hill
But his soul went out to sea
I know, for I heard, when all was still
His sea-soul say to me:

Put no tombstone at my head
For here I do not make my bed
Strew no flowers on my grave
I’ve gone back to the wind and wave
Do not, do not weep for me
For I am happy with the sea