We lying by seasand, watching yellow
And the grave sea, mock who deride
Who follow the red rivers, hollow
Alcove of words out of cicada shade,
For in this yellow grave of sand and sea
A calling for colour calls with the wind
That’s grave and gay as grave and sea
Sleeping on either hand.
The lunar silences, the silent tide
Lapping the still canals, the dry tide-master
Ribbed between desert and water storm,
Should cure our ills of the water
With a one-coloured calm ;
The heavenly music over the sand
Sounds with the grains as they hurry
Hiding the golden mountains and mansions
Of the grave, gay, seaside land.
Bound by a sovereign strip, we lie,
Watch yellow, wish for wind to blow away
The strata of the shore and drown red rock;
But wishes breed not, neither
Can we fend off rock arrival,
Lie watching yellow until the golden weather
Breaks, O my heart’s blood, like a heart and hill.

The wind it howled, the sea it raged, a storm of fury brewed
Off Farne Islands, a ship in peril, on jagged rocks it skewed
The cries for help, they pierced the night, a desperate, mournful plea
But hope remained, a flickering flame, for Grace, the lighthouse key

Grace Darling, daughter of the light, with courage in her soul
She faced the fury, dark and wild, to reach that wretched shoal
Her father by her side, they rowed, a tiny boat so frail
Against the crashing waves they fought, a daring, selfless tale

The lighthouse beam, a guiding star, cut through the inky night
Grace, with steady hand, she steered, a beacon shining bright
Her heart, though filled with fear, it burned with an unyielding fire
To save those clinging to the wreck, a noble, brave desire

Nine souls they saved from ocean's grasp, a victory hard won
Their bravery etched in history, a deed that will be sung
A lighthouse keeper's daughter bold, a legend of the sea
Her name a testament to strength, for all eternity

So raise a glass to Grace Darling, the heroine of the storm
May her courage ever light our way, and keep us safe and warm