Then crossed I in anguish the wide-spreading sea.
But thou wert more faithful, for rocked on the ocean
’Twas thou who mad’st lovely the dreams of my rest,
My spirit went forth on the wings of emotion
To sport with the bird o’er the blue waters’ breast.
Now in my pent bosom life’s last pulses tremble
Like sear fluttering leaves on yon wind-beaten tree,
With spring-loving birds on its boughs that assemble
My soul to the Land of the Spirit shall flee.
Then come, O my wild lyre, my sole earthly treasure,