Sea-Mad

(A Breton Maid)

Three waves of the sea came up on the wind to me! One said: "Away! he is dead! Upon my foam I have flung his head! Go back to your cote, you shall never wed!-- (Nor he!)"

Three waves of the sea came up on the wind to me. Two brake. The third with a quake Cried loud, "O maid, I'll find for thy sake His dead lost body: prepare his wake!" (And back it plunged to the sea!)

Three waves of the sea came up on the wind to me. One bore-- And swept on the shore-- His pale, pale face I shall kiss no more! Ah, woe to women death passes o'er! (Woe's me!)