O sea, what's fatal woe at thy rage
Our old moire will last age to age
Inspite thy devour.
Their hands were not tremulous
They steered nights and days; thus
Succeeded at the door
And precisely saved wrecked ship
And cheered with old-restored nip
Not to be bewitched, nor poor;
Just, a thorough strive they did
......
O sea, what's fatal woe at thy rage
Our old moire will last age to age
Inspite thy devour.
Their hands were not tremulous
They steered nights and days; thus
Succeeded at the door
And precisely saved wrecked ship
And cheered with old-restored nip
Not to be bewitched, nor poor;
Just, a thorough strive they did
......