Like an evening meteor sweeping,
Joyful glides she through the night,
Like an Alpine roebuck leaping
Over precipice and height.

"Better was it kissing
her in Balder's temple,
Than to stand here tasting
Salt-foam as it whirls.

Better 'twas embracing
Bele's royal daughter
Than to stand here gripping
Fast the rudder's helm."

From the cold sky's field
Snows intense prevail,
And on deck and shield
Rattling storms of hail.

Lo, o'er all the vessel flying
Night has placed her sable pall,
As in rooms where dead are lying,
Gloomy darkness covers all.
Wave implacable now lashes
Toward his doom the sailor brave
White-gray as with sifted ashes
Frightful yawns a boundless grave.

"Pillows Ran is making,