 | Carol and Cadence |  |
WANDERERS.
1.
Marineres, a-steering through the shadow of the peak,
Who are ye and whence are ye and what is it ye seek?
Who are ye and whence are ye and what is it ye seek?
Lovers, lovers, laboured of the winds of Will are we;
And we seek the lands of love that shine beyond the Western sea.
And we seek the lands of love that shine beyond the Western sea.
Dip your oars in, marineres! Here harboureth but strife.
Here hate is but to find, not love. This is the Land of Life.
Here hate is but to find, not love. This is the Land of Life.
2.
Marineres, a-rocking on the white waves' wrinkled crest,
Who are ye and whence are ye and whither is your quest?
Who are ye and whence are ye and whither is your quest?
Seekers, seekers, sorrowing for what we may not find,
Our quest is for the plains of peace that lie beyond the wind.
Our quest is for the plains of peace that lie beyond the wind.
Marineres, hoist up your sails! Here shall you find but leisure.
Here is no peace for such as you. This is the Land of Pleasure.
Here is no peace for such as you. This is the Land of Pleasure.
3.
Marineres, a-floating on the silence of the sea,
Who are ye and whence are ye and what is it seek ye?
Who are ye and whence are ye and what is it seek ye?
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Roamers, roamers, riding on the ocean's boundless breast;
And for the world, where stress is not nor sorrow, is our quest.
And for the world, where stress is not nor sorrow, is our quest.
Turn your prows, then, marineres, and bend your oars above!
This, this the Land of Sorrow is. Men call it Land of Love.
This, this the Land of Sorrow is. Men call it Land of Love.
4.
Marineres, slow-wending through the sprinkles of the foam,
Who are ye and what are ye and wherefore do ye roam?
Who are ye and what are ye and wherefore do ye roam?
Rovers, rovers, drifting on the troubled tides of life,
Seeking for the shores we go where silence is from strife.
Seeking for the shores we go where silence is from strife.
Marineres, shake out your sails! This is the Land of Dreams.
Here strife for ever is 'twixt that which is and that which seems.
Here strife for ever is 'twixt that which is and that which seems.
5.
Marineres, with wrinkled brows and tresses tossed and grey,
Who are ye and what are ye and whither is your way?
Who are ye and what are ye and whither is your way?
Dreamers, dreamers, shipwrecked of the storms of thought we are;
And we seek the Land of Silentness, behind the evening star.
And we seek the Land of Silentness, behind the evening star.
Marineres, draw in your oars! Light down and spare your breath!
This, this the Land of Silence is. Men call it Land of Death.
This, this the Land of Silence is. Men call it Land of Death.
| Carol and Cadence | |