Thy heart is faithless as the wind,
And flutters ceaselessly;
With sails all black my ship sails on
Far over the raging sea.
12.
Though shamefully thou didst entreat me,
To no man would I e’er unfold it,
But travell’d far over the billows,
And unto the fishes I told it.
I’ve left thee thy good reputation
With earth and the beings upon her,
But every depth of the ocean
Knows fully thy tale of dishonour.
13.
The roaring waves are dashing
High on the strand;
They’re swelling and they’re crashing
Over the sand.
They come in noisy fashion
Unceasingly,—
At length burst into passion,—
But what care we?
14.
The Runic stone ’mongst the waves stands high,
There sit I, with thoughts far roaming;
The wind pipes loudly, the seamews cry,
The billows are curling and foaming.