By the North Sea

Her cheek was wet with North Sea spray,
We walked where tide and shingle meet,
The long waves rolled from far away
To purr in ripples at our feet.
And as we walked it seemed to me
That three old friends had met that day,
The old, old sky, the old, old sea,
And love, which is as old as they.

Out seaward hung the brooding mist,
We saw it rolling, fold on fold,
And marked the great Sun alchemist
Turn all its leaden edge to gold.
Look well, look well, oh lady mine,
The grey below, - the gold above,
For so the greyest life may shine
All golden in the light of love.


Sir Arthur Conan Doyle