So wistful white at eve amid the waves
Where with sad eyes, men say, she gazes on
Earth’s failing hills and fields!
(She turns once more to the sea.)
’Tis good to sleep,
And alone, sad mother Ocean, let me lie;
Alone, gray mother, take me in your arms
Whose earthly sorrow once was deep as yours,
Whose passion was as vain, whose heart could sound
Thro’ all the sweetest meadows of this world