GETTATI AL VENTO.

The sea swallows wheel and fly

To their homes in the grey cliff-side;

And the silent ships drift by,

The world and its ways are wide!

Oh, which of you wandering sails

Will carry a word from me?

Spread all your wings in the gales,

Fly fast to her northern sea!

Go say to my heart’ s desired,

Too long from her side I roam,

And say I am tired, tired,

And I would she would call me home!