The sound of thy voice
Has broken our sleep;
We arise, we rejoice
At thy bidding to leap,
With a tumult of singing, a rapture of spray,
To scatter our joy in the path of the day.
GARLAND: Day comes at last, beyond the sea's grey rim;
The young sun leaps in sudden might of gold.
ASHALORN: Before his fire our lives will smoulder dim;
Like stars we shine, we fade; the tale is told,