(See Note 57)
E'en as the Sibyl in Northland-dawn drew
Forth from the myth-billows gliding,
Told all the past, all the future so true,
Sank with the lands' last subsiding, -
Prophecies leaving, eternally new,
Still abiding
Thus goes his spirit the Northland before, -
Though, that he sank, we have tiding, -
Visions unfolding like sun-clouds, when o'er
Sea-circled lands they are riding,
Northern lands' future, till time is no more,
Ever guiding.