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They met on night by the waves wild

And dark of the vast sea.

From far away they came and were

In number but of three.

The first was tall, with curly locks

Of black as raven’s wing,

And sitting on a rock a song

He dismally did sing.

The second looked so young that you

No more than fifteen years

Would say he liveth, and brought with him

An arm that dripped with tears.

The third one was the last to come,

All clothed in furs and skin

With baldrick-wise bow, beautiful

As one of godlike kin.

“Brothers in arms, companions mine,

Whom Fate did gather so,

Our path is clad in thickest mist

And yet we have to go.

What lies ahead we cannot see,

Still bidden we’re to go.”

(One by one the pines would fall

At chops well many and strong,

That the three men a ship could build

To sail the waves along.)

“Brothers in arms, companions mine,

Hold strong yer heart and oar.

Let our farewell as blessing bird

Unto our homelands soar.”

“Farewell, my father…” “Oh!, my spouse…”

“…Ah!, realms of the wild boar…”