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We rise with Spring, and rose-fingered Dawn

To number the days our brethren have been gone

Into the swelling sea

Unto the sunken earth

Heed the waves

As they come to break

From winter’s rage the seasons change

And still we heed the sun

When red we find its waking eye

Shall our vigil be undone

Mark the tide

Kneel before its wake

Heed the waves

As they come to break

Mourn the tide

For those it came to take

This keening wind has stopped our song

The dead tide brought us low

Upon the hill a cairn we’ll raise

So that our sons will know

So--by the grace of Dawn

Lay me upon this shore

As the season turns to fall