Classic Poem

Afar-off shore
And a beating tide.
With a rustling breeze
Away we ride,—
Sing for the sea,
Sing, sing cheerily.

Swift our painted bow
Cuts the hissing foam,
Swift fly the eddies behind,
Swift we rush towards home,
Sing for the sea,
Sing, sing cheerily.

On the white beach stands,
My love with her flowing hair.
She waves her small hands
For love, not despair;
Sing for the sea,
Sing, sing cheerily.

O! blow heavy breeze,
Bend our mast, load our sail.
Rush and dash onward fast,
And roll to the gale:—
Sing for the sea,
Sing, sing merrily.