2.
"A few short hours and He will rise
To give the Morrow birth;
And I shall hail the main and skies,
But not my mother Earth.
Deserted is my own good Hall,
Its hearth is desolate;
Wild weeds are gathering on the wall;
My Dog howls at the gate.
3.
"Come hither, hither, my little page[36]
Why dost thou weep and wail?
Or dost thou dread the billows' rage,
Or tremble at the gale?
But dash the tear-drop from thine eye;
Our ship is swift and strong:
Our fleetest falcon scarce can fly[aj]
More merrily along."[ak]
4.
"Let winds be shrill, let waves roll high,[al]
I fear not wave nor wind:
Yet marvel not, Sir Childe, that I
Am sorrowful in mind;[37]
For I have from my father gone,
A mother whom I love,
And have no friend, save these alone,
But thee—and One above.
5.
'My father blessed me fervently,
Yet did not much complain;
But sorely will my mother sigh
Till I come back again.'—
"Enough, enough, my little lad!
Such tears become thine eye;
If I thy guileless bosom had,
Mine own would not be dry.