For her I'll dare the billow's roar; - For her I'll trace a distant shore... She has my heart, she has my hand, by secret troth and honor's band. Till the mortal stroke shall lay me low...

In a dark wood I miss...
The shore of delight
I saw my several selves
Come running from the wood,
Lewd, tiny, careless lives
That scuttled under stones,
Or broke, but would not go...