By the waters of Babylon by the sea,

On the sand where the waters died,

The sea wind and the tide

Drowned the words you spoke to me.

The sea fell at our feet. The sand

Hushed the whispering waters, near

The babble of boats by the pier

Was the ictus to the roar on the strand.

By the waters of Babylon a grief to be,

The waiting ships in the bay,

Awed the words we would say

Against the sound of the sea:

For France was below the waters, and the west

Behind me where the rains

Come in November on the window panes,

And the blast shakes the ruined nest

Under the dripping eaves. What then remains

But memory of the waters of Babylon,

And the ships like swan after swan,

Under the drone of angry hydroplanes?

By the waters of Babylon we did not weep,

Though love comes and is gone,

As the wind is, as waters drawn

In spray from the deep.

Neither for things foreseen and ominous,

For newer hands that somewhere wait

To thrill afresh, the reblossomed fate

Did we surrender dolorous....

Change now is yours beyond the waters, nights

Of waiting and of doubt have dimmed desire.

Our hands are calm before the dying fire

Of lost delights.

Babylon by the sea knows us no more.

Between the surge's hushes

When on the sand the water rushes

There is no voice of ours upon the shore.