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How often into deepest abyss of the sea Have I thrown my ship and hapless me; But, alas! the death I sought I never found. Where yawns the grave for ship and sailor, I drove my ship to craggy rock, But not was watery grave my lot. Where sails the pirate’s dreaded craft, Have oft I waited for bloody strife; „Hier rief ich zeige deine Thaten!
Then she will be mine my angel she shall be. When out of torment’s iron hold, I long to see salvation near, I cling for so have I been told To one hope still remaining dear. May still I hope I cannot pray That pity feel might angel-wife? Then will I praise this happy day, When o’er, at last, this woeful strife. Though hope has died, and left no trace, I hope again for joy and grace.