The Ocean Burial

“Oh, bury me not in the deep, deep sea.”
These words came low and mournfully
from the pallid lips of a youth who lay
in his small cabin bed at the close of day.

“Oh, bury me not in the deep, deep sea,
where the billowy shroud will roll over me,
where no light will break through the cold dark wave,
and no sunbeam rest upon my grave.

“Oh it matters not, I have oft been told,
where the body may lie when the heart grows cold.
But grant, oh, grant me this one final plea,
to bury me not in the deep, deep sea.

“I have always hoped to be laid when I died,
in the old church yard on the green hillside.
By the bones of my father, oh, there let me be.
Oh, bury me not in the deep, deep sea.

“Oh, bury me not-“ …and his voice failed there.
But they gave no heed to his dying prayer.
They have lowered him over the vessel’s side,
and above him has closed the cold, dark tide.