Underneath a sailing moon   Lemon lime ginger soft glow   Scale the woodland around the dale   Rising, falling through hedgerows   With her train, the queen of night    (Her pale window), (Calming your fear)   (With the Earth)   Slowly turning the tide (in the lowland)   From the long arms of the sea   Set your compass by your dream (falling)   Grazing sheep have lost their way   Fifty fathoms below the bay      Windward of the sunken rock (blowing)   Faces set like gravestones (staring down)   Oarsmen pull to cleave the brine   Neath the blackcliffs their cross-bones   Under the waves and put to right   Toy armies too rusty to fight (in the lowland)   Cling to the wheel how deeply you breathe   Set your compass by your dream (falling)   Grazing sheep have lost their way   Fifty fathoms below the bay