Galleon ladies in death masks go Dreaming of lost Mexico The dead have gathered on the strand To listen to the echoing The sea is rising and the sand Encroach upon this widow’s peak Soldiers red and soldiers blue Abjure this slow pestilence The brigantessas to and fro Worry oar locks where follow By my cull and clinker boat Sailfish on the wing Clean the ashes from your hands Taste this salt to reminisce
