Translated by Charles Wharton Stork
Sleepless night, the rushing rain,
While my heart with ceaseless pain
Hears the mournful past subsiding
Or the uncertain future striding.
Heart, 'tis fatal thus to harken,
Let not fear thy courage darken,
Though the past be all regretting
And the future helpless fretting.
Onward, let what's mortal die.
Is the storm near, beat thou high.
Who came safe o'er Galilee
Makes the voyage now in thee.