I.
The sea swallows wheel and fly
To their homes in the grey cliff-side;
And the silent ships drift by,
The world and its ways are wide!
Oh, which of you wandering sails
Will carry a word from me?
Spread all your wings in the gales,
Fly fast to her northern sea!
Go say to my heart’s desired,
Too long from her side I roam,
And say I am tired, tired,
And I would she would call me home!