The stormy Horn, whose rocks the tempest echo,
Can faith and courage there maintain their throne?
Watching the swell from out the cabin windows,
The towering waves piled high and steep appear;
But what is riding on those mighty billows?
An albatross. The sight allays my fear.
Her snow-white breast she settles on the water,
Her dark wings fluttering while she trims her form,
Then calmly rides; nor can the great waves daunt her,
Nor will she heed the menace of the storm.