It will be my home and friend.
It will be my home and the wind my love,
And the wave my darling or my death.
That sea has lured many men ere now,
And filled many a lover’s eyes with tears. 10
But grieve not for me, if perchance I die:
Thou wouldst waste thy fair life in vain.
If thou hearest I am dead, place a cross on the shore,
And my bones cast up by the wave, hide them in the sand.
And take a little rose and set it to grow, 15