Oh, thousands of times have we played on the shore,
And caught little fishes--dost mind it no more?
We raced with the surf as it rolled at our feet,
And the lurking old Merman we always did cheat.

'Yes, much shalt thou think of at my lullaby,
Whilst the billows do rock and the breezes do sigh.
Who sits now and weeps o'er thy cheeks? It is she
Who gave thee her soul, and whose soul lived in thee.

'But once as an eider-duck homeward I came
Thou didst lie 'neath a rock, with thy rifle didst aim;
In my breast thou didst strike me; the blood thou dost see
Is the mark that I bear, oh! beloved one, of thee.'