Rose and Roof-Tree — Sailor's Song
SAILOR'S SONG.
The sea goes up; the sky comes down.
Oh, can you spy the ancient town,-- The granite hills so hard and gray, That rib the land behind the bay?
O ye ho, boys!
Spread her wings!
Fair winds, boys: send her home!
O ye ho!
Three years?
Is it so long that we Have lived upon the lonely sea?
Oh, often I thought we'd see the town, When the sea went up, and the sky came down.
O ye ho, boys!
Spread her wings!
Fair winds, boys: send her home!
O ye ho!
Even the winter winds would rouse A memory of my father's house;
For round his windows and his door They made the same deep, mouthless roar.
O ye ho, boys!
Spread her wings!
Fair winds, boys: send her home!
O ye ho!
And when the summer's breezes beat, Methought I saw the sunny street Where stood my Kate.
Beneath her hand She gazed far out, far out from land.
O ye ho, boys!
Spread her wings!
Fair winds, boys: send her home!
O ye ho!
Farthest away, I oftenest dreamed That I was with her.
Then, it seemed A single stride the ocean wide Had bridged, and brought me to her side.
O ye ho, boys!
Spread her wings!
Fair winds, boys: send her home.
O ye ho!
But though so near we're drawing, now, 'T is farther off----I know not how.
We sail and sail: we see no home.
Would we into the port were come!
O ye ho, boys!
Spread her wings!
Fair winds, boys: send her home!
O ye ho!
At night, the same stars o'er the mast: The mast sways round--however fast We fly--still sways and swings around One scanty circle's starry bound.
O ye ho, boys!
Spread her wings!
Fair winds, boys: send her home!
O ye ho!
Ah, many a month those stars have shone, And many a golden morn has flown, Since that so solemn, happy morn, When, I away, my babe was born.
O ye ho, boys!
Spread her wings!
Fair winds, boys: send her home!
O ye ho!
And, though so near we're drawing, now, 'T is farther off--I know not how-- I would not aught amiss had come To babe or mother there, at home!
O ye ho, boys!
Spread her wings!
Fair winds, boys: send her home!
O ye ho!
'T is but a seeming: swiftly rush The seas, beneath.
I hear the crush Of foamy ridges 'gainst the prow.
Longing outspeeds the breeze, I know.
O ye ho, boys!
Spread her wings!
Fair winds, boys: send her home!
O ye ho!
Patience, my mates!
Though not this eve We cast our anchor, yet believe, If but the wind holds, short the run: We 'll sail in with to-morrow's sun.
O ye ho, boys!
Spread her wings!
Fair winds, boys: send her home!
O ye ho!
JESSAMINE.
