Salt-laden sea, how much of all your salt Is tears of Portugal! For us to cross you, how many sons have kept Vigil in vain, and mothers wept! Lived as old maids how many brides-to-be Till death, that you might be ours, sea!
Was it worth? It is worth while, all, If the soul is not small. Whoever means to sail beyond the Cape Must double sorrow - no escape. Peril and abyss has God to the sea given And yet made it the mirror of heaven