The ocean heaves around us still With long and measured swell, The autumn gales our canvas fill, Our ship rides smooth and well. The broad Atlantic's bed of foam Still breaks against our prow;...
Adieu to kindred hearts and home, To pleasure, joy, and mirth, A fitter foot than mine to roam Could scarcely tread the earth; For they are now so few indeed (Not more than three in all),...
Where the grave-deeps rot, where the grave-dews rust, They dug, crying, 'Earth to earth', Crying, 'Ashes to ashes and dust to dust', And what are my poor prayers worth?...
Calm and clear! the bright day is declining, The crystal expanse of the bay, Like a shield of pure metal, lies shining 'Twixt headlands of purple and grey,...
'Now, welcome, welcome, masters mine, Thrice welcome to the noble chase, Nor earthly sport, nor sport divine, Can take such honourable place.' - Ballad of the Wild Huntsman. (Free Translation.)