Once more I hear the everlasting sea Breathing beneath the mountain's fragrant breast - Alfred Noyes

Beauty is a fading flower, Truth is but a wizard's tower, Where a solemn death-bell tolls, And a forest round it rolls.

He was once our trumpeter, now his bugle's dumb, Pile your arms beneath it, for the owlet light is come, We'll wander through the roses where we marched of old with Peterkin, We'll search the summer sunset where the Hybla beehives hum, And — if we meet a fairy there — we'll ask for news of Peterkin.

There was music all about us, we were growing quite forgetful
We were only singing seamen from the dirt of Londontown.