Far rolling voices of the sea
chant loud upon the shore.
They tell the ancient mystery
of God forevermore.
Newborn, the sun in glory rides
across the heavn’ly fields.
The starry host in silence bides
and to the morning yields.
White seabirds wheel against the sky,
companioned with the dawn.
God, lift our winging souls on high,
share in creation’s morn.
Your universal waters sweep
upon the endless strands.
Your love and mercy ever keep
asurge in all thy lands.
Far rolling voices of the sea
chant loud upon the shore.
They tell the ancient mystery,
O God, forevermore.
By Max Kepp
Found in Singing the Living Tradition
Hopping Hadrian's Wall 
Like that will make me so much more spiritual when I am forty to have denied myself fun when I was twenty.
Enjoyed reading your poem. It took me somewhere I haven’t quite been before.
And where is that?
I was somewhere watching the sun come up by the sea on some kind of cliff.