| |
| FROM dusk until dawn they are hurrying on, | |
| Unfetterd and fearless they flee; | |
| From morn until eve they plunder and thieve— | |
| The hungry, white wolves of the Sea! | |
| |
| With never a rest, they race to the west, | 5 |
| To the Orient’s rim do they run; | |
| By the berg and the floe of the northland they go | |
| And away to the isles of the sun. | |
| |
| They wail at the moon from the desolate dune | |
| Till the air has grown dank with their breath; | 10 |
| They snarl at the stars from the treacherous bars | |
| Of the coasts that are haunted by Death. | |
| |
| They grapple and bite in a keen, mad delight | |
| As they feed on the bosom of Grief; | |
| And one steals away to a cave with his prey, | 15 |
| And one to the rocks of the reef. | |
| |
| With the froth on their lips they follow the ships, | |
| Each striving to lead in the chase; | |
| Since loosed by the hand of the King of their band | |
| They have known but the rush of the race. | 20 |
| |
| They are shaggy and old, yet as mighty and bold | |
| As when God’s freshest gale set them free; | |
| Not a sail is unfurled in a port of the world | |
| But is prey for the wolves of the Sea! | |
| |
