Poetry Archives

Far out across Carnarvon bay,
   Beneath the evening waves,
The ancient dead begin their day
   And stream among the graves.

Listen, for they of ghostly speech,
   Who died when Christ was born,
May dance upon the golden beach
   That once was golden corn.

And you may learn of Dyfed’s reign,
   And dream Nemedian tales
Of Kings who sailed in ships from Spain
   And lent their swords to Wales.

Listen, for like a golden snake
   The Ocean twists and stirs,
And whispers how the dead men wake
   And call across the years.