The storm strikes up for dancing,
It blusters, pipes, roars with delight;
Hurrah, how the bark is springing!
How merry and wild is the night!
A living watery mountain
The raging sea builds tow’rd the sky;
A gloomy abyss here is gaping,
There, mounts a white tower on high.
A vomiting, cursing, and praying
From the cabin bursts forth ’mid the roar;
I cling to the mast for protection,
And wish I was safely on shore.
14.
’Tis evening, darker ’tis getting,
Mist veils the sea from the eye;
The waves are mysteriously fretting,
White shadows are rising on high.
From the billows the mermaid arises,
And sits herself near me on shore;
The veil which her figure disguises
Her snow-white bosom peeps o’er.
She warmly doth caress me,
And takes my breath away:
Too closely dost thou press me,
Thou lovely water-fay!
“My arms thus closely caress thee,
“I clasp thee with all my might;
“In hope of warmth do I press thee,
“For cold indeed is the night.”
The moon from her dusky cloister
Of clouds, sheds a paler ray;
Thine eye grows sadder and moister
Thou lovely water-fay!
“No sadder nor moister ’tis growing,
“Mine eye is moist and wet,
“For when from the wave I was going,
“A drop remain’d in it yet.”