I died so many times when drunk
That sober I became,
Like water where a ship was sunk
That never knew its name.

Old barnacles upon my sides
Ringed round with pitch and toss,
Were given me by mermaid brides
Immaculate as moss.

Here now with neither kin nor quest
I am so full of sea
That whales make of me a nest
And go to sleep in me.

Those angels of the upper air
May sip of the divine.
They shall know a haven holier
But less goodbye than mine.