With sloping masts and dipping prow,

As who pursued with yell and blow

Still treads the shadow of his foe,

And foward bends his head,

The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast,

And southward aye we fled.

–

And now there came both mist and snow,

And it grew wondrous cold:

And ice, mast-high, came floating by,

As green as emerald.