They met on night by the waves wild
And dark of the vast sea.
From far away they came and were
In number but of three.

The first was tall, with curly locks
Of black as raven’s wing,
And sitting on a rock a song
He dismally did sing.

The second looked so young that you
No more than fifteen years
Would say he liveth, and brought with him
An arm that dripped with tears.

The third one was the last to come,
All clothed in furs and skin
With baldrick-wise bow, beautiful
As one of godlike kin.

“Brothers in arms, companions mine,
Whom Fate did gather so,
Our path is clad in thickest mist
And yet we have to go.
What lies ahead we cannot see,
Still bidden we’re to go.”

(One by one the pines would fall
At chops well many and strong,
That the three men a ship could build
To sail the waves along.)

“Brothers in arms, companions mine,
Hold strong yer heart and oar.
Let our farewell as blessing bird
Unto our homelands soar.”
“Farewell, my father…” “Oh!, my spouse…”
“…Ah!, realms of the wild boar…”