The din of war and merrymaking

I heard Nahina's voice, and for

The sight of her in secret aching,

Before me saw my native shore.

'Come, men!' I cried. 'Did we not roam

The world enough? Time to go home!

'Neath native eaves we'll hang our mail;

Is't not, in faith, for this we hanker!'

And leaving in our wake a trail

Of fear, for Finland we set sail

And in her waters soon dropped anchor.

'Fulfilled were all my dreamings past

That set my lone heart faster beating.

O longed-for moment of our meeting,

O blessed hour, you came at last!

There, at the feet of my proud beauty

I laid my sword and, too, the booty

Of war: pearls, corals, gold. 'Fore her,

By jealous womenfolk surrounded,

Her one-time playmates, my unbounded

Love making me her prisoner,

Mute stood I, but Nahina coolly

Turned from me, saying with no sign

That she would e'er relent: 'Nay, truly,

I do not love thee, hero mine!'

"I do not like to speak of things

y. It is pure agony to think of.

E'en now, my son, when at the brink of

I am of death, remembrance brings

Fresh sorrow to my long-numb spirit

And gravely wounds my being whole,

And torn by pain, seared by it, wearied,

I feel the tears down my cheeks roll.