Watch ye well! The moon is shrouded
  On her bright throne;
Storms are gathering, stars are clouded,
  Waves make wild moan.
'Tis no night of hearth-fires glowing
And gay songs and wine cups flowing;
But of winds in darkness blowing,
      O'er seas unknown!

In the dwellings of our fathers,
  Round the glad blaze, 
Now the festive circle gathers
  With harps and lays;
Now the rush-strewn halls are ringing,
Steps are bounding, bards are singing, 
-- Ay the hour to all is bringing
      Peace, joy, or praise.

Save to us, our night-watch keeping,
  Storm-winds to brave, 
While the very sea-bird sleeping
  Rests in its cave!
Think of us when hearths are beaming,
Think of us when mead is streaming,
Ye, of whom our souls are dreaming
      On the dark wave!