Across the cold seas,
For her lover she searches;
Her small feet dance
As the water lurches—

Here! and There!
With a feathered sweep,
She brushes her tears;
But hear her weep,

“I am forsaken,
Aloft and alone,
With wind-tattered sails
And memories, I roam.

Light on my toes,
I dance! I dance!
Though the shards of sorrow
May pierce and lance.”

Veils upon veils;
Mist over mist;
The ocean engulfs her,
But she was once kissed

By a man who knelt to tumultuous waves;
With a graceful plunge,
His life he gave;

Yet once again, hear
Her keening moan:

“I am forsaken,
Aloft and alone,
With wind-tattered sails
And memories, I roam.”