Wild was the sound of the wind and the sleet,
(Flotsam and jetsam from over the sea,
The dead—do they walk again?)
Wilder the roar of the surf that beat;
Whose was the form that it bore to her feet,
Swayed with the swell of the unquiet sea,
While the raven croaked in the rowan tree?
(Hark to the wind and the rain!)
O Ladye, strange is the silent guest—
(Flotsam and jetsam cast up by the sea,