Only upon terra firma
I have left you your good name;
But over all the ocean
Every creature knows your shame.
XIV.
The roaring waves press onward
To reach the strand.
Then swell, and, crashing downward,
Break on the sand.
They roll with surging power,
Nor rest, nor fail—
And then ebb slow and slower—
Of what avail?
XV.
The Runenstein juts in the sea,
I sit here with my dreams,
The billows wander foamingly;
Winds pipe, the sea-mew screams.
Oh I have loved full many a lass,
And many a worthy fellow,
Where have they gone? The shrill winds pass,
And wandering foams the billow.
XVI.
The waves gleam in the sunshine,
They seem of gold to be.
When I am dead, my brothers,
Oh drop me in the sea.