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,