Our cheeks were wet with North Sea spray,
We walked where tide and shingle meet;
The tawny waves from far away 
purred in their 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.

Mark well that day, dear heart of mine, 
the grey below, the gold above,
For so the greyest life may shine 
all golden in the rays of love!
It's me to you and you to me, 
and three old friends have met today,
The old, old sky, the old, old sea, 
and Love which is as old as they.