• We buried him high on the windy hill,
    But his soul went out to sea.
    I know for I heard, when all was still,
    His sea-soul say to me:

    Put no tombstone at my head,
    For here I do not make my bed.
    Strew no flowers on my grave,
    I've gone back to the wind and wave.
    Do not, do not weep for me,
    For I am happy with my sea.