Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 3).djvu/97



Go with God, thou tempter fair; I shall bear until I break.

For thy mother's, sisters' sake!

Bring my greetings to my Home; I will write—if words should come.

Over ocean's gleaming breast White sails hurry from the strand;— Like the sighs of dreaming brows, Lofty, diamond-beaded prows Speed them to their haven-rest In a far-off vision'd land.

Sail to westward, sail to east;— Think of me as one deceased.

As a sister come with me.

[Shaking her head.]

'Twixt us rolls a boundless sea.

O, then homeward to thy mother!

[Softly.]

Not from Master, Friend, and Brother.