Beat into shore the ocean’s waves;
Come crashing they—these hollow caves
As make our habitation, yet
Reverberate, and breached our staves.
Loudly they pour, and drown regret
Because these waves do not abet
Memories of times past, things done,
But leave it all effaced and wet.
I tabulate the lost and won,
Battles that raged, yet left no one
Clear victor, in the end of days:
Too I did mourn my Absolon.
The days were passed in blame and praise:
The ocean’s tide keeps faith always,
Yet better than to live as slaves
To claim the glory death repays.