Roaring waves told the tale of the deep,
O’er the grave where sailors sleep.
The Swede’s fear showed; sweat wet his brow
As sea hurled up to meet the prow.
The first’s feared shout was grabbed by storm,
Wind stole Swede’s every trace of warm.
The sun had fled, the light had gone.
The depths curled in a mighty yawn
To swallow boat and sailors all.
The Swede cried once before a call
Behind him came; a welcome sound:
His mate a safety rope had found
And offered him its tight embrace.
But Swede, he did not win the race;
The ocean’s maw around him closed
Quite gone indeed, he did suppose.
He fought the beast with all his might
Though none concerned to know his plight.
With his last breath he broke the waves
And found some wood, and feeling brave
He clung to it with his last strength
And swore the rest of his life’s length
He’d make the most and live in thanks.
Swede bobbed the sea till night and day
Inside his muddled mind did sway.
He noticed not, he did not hear
The voices in the Isomere-
Their tongue was much unlike his own,
And through his lips escaped a moan-
Closer to the sand he crept
And wept and wept and wept and wept.
His copper head shone like a flame
As blonder people ‘round him came.
The Dutch hands tugged him, Dutch mouths spoke
And through the sea Swede coughed and choked,
“Called Tonus. Tonus was my name.”
And then Tonus the Swede became.
O’er the grave where sailors sleep.
The Swede’s fear showed; sweat wet his brow
As sea hurled up to meet the prow.
The first’s feared shout was grabbed by storm,
Wind stole Swede’s every trace of warm.
The sun had fled, the light had gone.
The depths curled in a mighty yawn
To swallow boat and sailors all.
The Swede cried once before a call
Behind him came; a welcome sound:
His mate a safety rope had found
And offered him its tight embrace.
But Swede, he did not win the race;
The ocean’s maw around him closed
Quite gone indeed, he did suppose.
He fought the beast with all his might
Though none concerned to know his plight.
With his last breath he broke the waves
And found some wood, and feeling brave
He clung to it with his last strength
And swore the rest of his life’s length
He’d make the most and live in thanks.
Swede bobbed the sea till night and day
Inside his muddled mind did sway.
He noticed not, he did not hear
The voices in the Isomere-
Their tongue was much unlike his own,
And through his lips escaped a moan-
Closer to the sand he crept
And wept and wept and wept and wept.
His copper head shone like a flame
As blonder people ‘round him came.
The Dutch hands tugged him, Dutch mouths spoke
And through the sea Swede coughed and choked,
“Called Tonus. Tonus was my name.”
And then Tonus the Swede became.
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