Krinken

Krinken was a little child,--     It was summer when he smiled.     Oft the hoary sea and grim     Stretched its white arms out to him,     Calling, "Sun-child, come to me;     Let me warm my heart with thee!"     But the child heard not the sea,     Calling, yearning evermore     For the summer on the shore.     Krinken on the beach one day     Saw a maiden Nis at play;     On the pebbly beach she played     In the summer Krinken made.     Fair, and very fair, was she,     Just a little child was he.     "Krinken," said the maiden Nis,     "Let me have a little kiss,     Just a kiss, and go with me     To the summer-lands that be     Down within the silver sea."     Krinken was a little child--     By the maiden Nis beguiled,     Hand in hand with her went he,     And 'twas summer in the sea.     And the hoary sea and grim     To its bosom folded him--     Clasped and kissed the little form,     And the ocean's heart was warm.     Now the sea calls out no more;     It is winter on the shore,--     Winter where that little child     Made sweet summer when he smiled;     Though 'tis summer on the sea     Where with maiden Nis went he,--     Summer, summer evermore,--     It is winter on the shore,     Winter, winter evermore.     Of the summer on the deep     Come sweet visions in my sleep:     His fair face lifts from the sea,     His dear voice calls out to me,--     These my dreams of summer be.     Krinken was a little child,     By the maiden Nis beguiled;     Oft the hoary sea and grim     Reached its longing arms to him,     Crying, "Sun-child, come to me;     Let me warm my heart with thee!"     But the sea calls out no more;     It is winter on the shore,--     Winter, cold and dark and wild;     Krinken was a little child,--     It was summer when he smiled;     Down he went into the sea,     And the winter bides with me.     Just a little child was he.