Far in his deep cave, by the salt sea wave,
The Storm-king soundly sleeps.
The winds at his call will rise or will fall,
Each wave is beneath his sway;
The gloom of his frown brings the black clouds down,
And turns into night the day.
When his dream is o’er, by the rock-reef shore,
In anger he rushes forth,
And calls each dread wave from its secret cave,
And beckons fierce blasts from the north.