Do not leap joyful into that cold sea,

Do not leap joyful into that cold sea,
scant chance should shine and twist at close of day;
rage, rage against the wounding of the tale.
Though rare foes at their end know lone is true,
Because their quests had built no freedom they
Do not leap joyful into that cold sea,
cold foes, the best dash by, crying how great
Their clumsy skills might have raved in a bright glen,
rage, rage against the wounding of the tale.
wild foes who dreamed and dreamed the sea in praise,
And learn, too close, they slammed it on its way,
Do not leap joyful into that cold sea,
sad foes, in pain, who feel with blinding sight
blind eyes could hiss like lightning and be gay,
rage, rage against the wounding of the tale.
And you, my aunt, there on the lonely seas,
curse, bless, me now with your just mind, I pray.
Do not leap joyful into that cold sea,
rage, rage against the wounding of the tale.

Crunch!