Fades o’er the waters blue;
The night-wind sighs, the breakers roar,
Load shrieks the wild sea-mew.
Yon sun, that’s setting o’er the sea,
We’ll follow in its flight;
Farewell awhile to it and thee—
My native land—Good night!
“With thee, my bark, I’ll swiftly go,
Athwart the foaming brine,
Nor care what land thou bear’st me to,