But ah! what destiny can do

      Is not for folly's hand.

      The flames O-Shichi kindled were

      From sea to Shiba fanned.

      And it was learned a love-sick girl

      Had charred a thousand homes.

      Then were the fury-smitten folk like to a sea that foams.

      And so they seized her: but not in

      The temple – O not there

      Had she been led again by priests

      In pity – led to share

      Her lover's eyes; no, but her sin

      Brought not one dear delight

      To poor O-Shichi – who was now to look on her last rite.

      For to the stake they bound her – fire

      They lit – to be her fate…

      O-Shichi, have I dreamt it all?

      Your face, the temple gate,

      The fair boy-priest shut from desire

      In Buddhahood to-be?

      Then let me dream and ever dream, O flower by Yedo's sea.

      The fishermen bade their wives farewell,

      (The sun floated merry up the morning)

      They sang, to the rhythm of the low-swung swell,

      "O come, lads, scorning

      The highlands high,

      There's no warning

      In the blue south sky,

      There's no warning,

      O come, lads, free,

      We'll cross the harbor bar and put to sea!"

      The fisherwives prayed, the sails blew fast,

      (O home it is happy where there's hoping)