Till the thread of life is broken
Shall thine image fill my heart;
But the Sov'reign Lord has spoken,
And, poor mortals, we must part!

Where the crane, with accents wailing,
On Naniwa's billowy strand
Calls his mate when day is failing,
There thou leav'st thy native land.

With the foam-capped waves to wrestle,
In his place each oarsman sits;
Rounding Mitsu's cape, thy vessel
On past countless islands flits.

While, the sacred emblems taking
To implore the heav'nly train,
I await thee: heed mine aching
Heart, and soon come home again!