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Krinken

by
 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.

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