The fires roared in the skalli-hall, And a woman begged me stay – But the bitter night was falling And the cold wind calling Across the moaning spray.How could I stay in the feasting-hall When the wild wind walked the sea? The feet of the winds drew out my soul To the grey waves and the cloud’s scroll Where the gulls wheel and the whales roll, And the abyss roars to me.Man the sweeps and bend the sail – We need no oars tonight, For the sharp sleet drives before the gale That dashes the spray across the rail To freeze on helmet and corselet scale, And the waves are running white.I could not bide in the feasting-hall Where the great fires light the rooms – For the winds are walking the night for me And I must follow where gaunt lands be, Seeking, beyond some nameless sea, The dooms beyond the dooms.