Tides

I am weary of birth and battle, Seasons and Time and tide, Of the ocean's empty rattle. And the woman at my side.

I am weary of pain and revel, And eyes that glitter or weep; I will sell my soul to the Devil For a thousand years of sleep.

Then never a dream shall haunt me, And never a star shall rise, Nor a shadow come to daunt me In the blackness over my eyes.

There shall be no name or number Of the seasons over me; I shall know the tides of slumber As a sunken ship, the sea.

And when I shall wake hereafter, And the Devil comes for his gain, I will crush him with crimson laughter And turn to my sleep again.