THE wind blew shrill¹ and smart,

And the wind awoke my heart

Again to go a-sailing o’er the sea,

To hear the cordage moan

And the straining timbers groan²,

And to see the flying pennon lie a-lee.

O sailor of the fleet,

It is time to stir the feet!

It’s time to man the dingy³ and to row!

It’s lay your hand in mine

And it’s empty down the wine,

And it’s drain a health to death before we go!

To death, my lads, we sail;

And it’s death that blows the gale⁴

And death that holds the tiller as we ride.

For he’s the king of all

In the tempest and the squall,

And the ruler of the Ocean wild and wide!

下一页  尾页