The waves come dashing round my feet.
My schuyt floats on the deepening tide;
By struggling long I reach her side.
With oar and sail at my command,
We’re saved from Broek-in-Waterland!
An hour has past—in Wester Dock
The maid recovers from the shock;
But, danger past, deep blushes rise,
Hot tears of shame start from her eyes;
She feels that fear hath made her bold,