In moonlit splendor rests the sea,
The soft waves ripple along.
My heart beats low and heavily,
I think of the ancient song.
The ancient song that quaintly sings
Towns lost in olden times;
And how from the sea's abyss there rings
The sound of prayers and chimes.
But pious prayers and chimes, I ween,
Are offered all in vain.
For that which once hath buried been
May never come back again.