XVI.
The waves gleam in the sunshine,
They seem of gold to be.
When I am dead, my brothers,
Oh drop me in the sea.
For dearly have I loved it.
Like cooling balm descends
Upon my heart its current:
We were the best of friends.
The waves gleam in the sunshine,
They seem of gold to be.
When I am dead, my brothers,
Oh drop me in the sea.
For dearly have I loved it.
Like cooling balm descends
Upon my heart its current:
We were the best of friends.