13.
The storm strikes up for dancing,
It blusters, pipes, roars with delight;
Hurrah, how the bark is springing!
How merry and wild is the night!
A living watery mountain
The raging sea builds tow’rd the sky;
A gloomy abyss here is gaping,
There, mounts a white tower on high.
A vomiting, cursing, and praying
From the cabin bursts forth ’mid the roar;
I cling to the mast for protection,
And wish I was safely on shore.