---

The envious billows sidelong

Always swell to whelm the track

And the ever-brimming goblets

They will never bring us back.

Well, the pale and turbid water

The only bosom we adore

And a fever heart starts pounding

When we leave the grassy shores.

Aye, I leave you in the morning

With the night-birds soiling song.

Aye, I leave you in the morning

For the realms where I belong.

And when you hear my gentle footsteps

On the pale shell-dotted floor

Cry a tear in your cold pillow

For the great summers we longed for.

The dancing waters now await me

With its solemn cold distress

And I dip my final anchor

Deep into the Neptune's chest.

The compass-needle tumbled

As she lights their little stove.

And the odour of fresh seaweed

Drifting over from the cove.