We sat at the fisherman's cottage,
And gazed upon the sea;
Then came the mists of evening,
And rose up silently.
The lights within the lighthouse
Were kindled one by one,
We saw still a ship in the distance
On the dim horizon alone.
We spoke of tempest and shipwreck,
Of sailors and of their life,
And how 'twixt clouds and billows
They're tossed, 'twixt joy and strife.
We spoke of distant countries
From North to South that range,
Of strange fantastic nations,
And their customs quaint and strange.
The Ganges is flooded with splendor,
And perfumes waft through the air,
And gentle people are kneeling
To Lotos flowers fair.
In Lapland the people are dirty,
Flat-headed, large-mouthed, and small;
They squat round the fire and, frying
Their fishes, they shout and they squall.
The girls all gravely listened,
Not a word was spoken at last;
The ship we could see no longer,
Darkness was settling so fast.
3[30]
You lovely fisher-maiden,
Bring now the boat to land;
Come here and sit beside me,
We'll prattle hand in hand.
Your head lay on my bosom,
Nor be afraid of me;
Do you not trust all fearless
Daily the great wild sea?