Krinken was a little child,- It was summer when he smiled. Oft the hoary sea and grim Stretched its white arms out to him, Calling, 'Sun-child, come to me; Let me warm my heart with thee!' But the child heard not the sea, Calling, yearning evermore For the summer on the shore. Krinken on the beach one day Saw a maiden Nis at play; On the pebbly beach she played In the summer Krinken made. Fair, and very fair, was she, Just a little child was he. 'Krinken,' said the maiden Nis, 'Let me have a little kiss, Just a kiss, and go with me To the summer-lands that be Down within the silver sea.' Krinken was a little child- By the maiden Nis beguiled, Hand in hand with her went he, And 'twas summer in the sea. And the hoary sea and grim To its bosom folded him- Clasped and kissed the little form, And the ocean's heart was warm. Now the sea calls out no more; It is winter on the shore,- Winter where that little child Made sweet summer when he smiled; Though 'tis summer on the sea Where with maiden Nis went he,- Summer, summer evermore,- It is winter on the shore, Winter, winter evermore. Of the summer on the deep Come sweet visions in my sleep: His fair face lifts from the sea, His dear voice calls out to me,- These my dreams of summer be. Krinken was a little child, By the maiden Nis beguiled; Oft the hoary sea and grim Reached its longing arms to him, Crying, 'Sun-child, come to me; Let me warm my heart with thee!' But the sea calls out no more; It is winter on the shore,- Winter, cold and dark and wild; Krinken was a little child,- It was summer when he smiled; Down he went into the sea, And the winter bides with me. Just a little child was he.