Finally, that we may be all at once all at once, when the coil is unwound and exhausted and begins to cool And the corneal fillaments glaze into placid glass marble lakes, reflecting the small spurn of the world they held
That our soul should be upwelled To the lapping stones of Valhalla, to be arisen by great arms and carried to our tableplace To jest eternally of the great disgrace...
And woe of our whales, lost long afar And the men who hunted them incessant Pleasently warmed and vibrating with the humming mumble of the upper yards,
Worn travellers return to tired halls.
And sing,
"Hei do Yey-- be come what may, High winter hΓΌnde beheld at bay And Yeh they feed in rare reprieve On souls of such we will not say.
Hei do lum-- what will be done, What valor hark thy martyrdom Upon thine breaths and storied crests Upon thy tomb, thy charter won
Hei do ill, ye sum thy will To heed thy lands upon the hill Down back from whence thy kingdom lent The battle-horn, heard she so shrill"
And I confessed,
"HEI DO LAI, TO WHICH I CRY, MY CITY SLEEPS BELOW THE SKIES AND DOES NOT SEEK TO SEE MY FEET, OR EVERMORE AFFIX MY EYES."