In primeval times, a maiden,

Beauteous Daughter of the Ether,

Passed for ages her existence

In the great expanse of heaven,

O'er the prairies yet enfolded.

Wearisome the maiden growing,

Her existence sad and hopeless,

Thus alone to live for ages

In the infinite expanses

Of the air above the sea-foam,

In the far outstretching spaces,

In a solitude of ether,

She descended to the ocean,

Waves her coach, and waves her pillow.

Thereupon the rising storm-wind

Flying from the East in fierceness,

Whips the ocean into surges,

Strikes the stars with sprays of ocean

Till the waves are white with fervor.