The Bed

On this creaking craft,
On this rock-a-bye boat,
In a daze I drift,
Through the night I float.

I'm transported leagues
Beyond sense and knowing
To where sails are full
With a wild wind blowing,

Where the grège gulls soar
And the green tides rise,
Where the swells do swell
As my spirit glides

Through a realm of dreams
In a slumber sound--
Hear the sirens sing
Of the crews they've drowned--

Till the nodding prow
Scrapes against the sand,
And my voyage ends
In the waking land.