 | The poems of Richard Henry Stoddard |  |
309
OUT TO SEA.
The wind is blowing east,
And the waves are running free;
Let's hoist the sail at once,
And stand out to sea,
(You and me.)
I am growing more and more
A-weary of the shore;
It was never so before—
Out to sea!
And the waves are running free;
Let's hoist the sail at once,
And stand out to sea,
(You and me.)
I am growing more and more
A-weary of the shore;
It was never so before—
Out to sea!
The wind is blowing east,
How it swells the straining sail!
A little further out
We shall have a jolly gale.
(Cling to me.)
The waves are running high,
And the gulls, how they fly!
We shall only see the sky
Out to sea!
How it swells the straining sail!
A little further out
We shall have a jolly gale.
(Cling to me.)
The waves are running high,
And the gulls, how they fly!
We shall only see the sky
Out to sea!
The wind is blowing east
From the dark and bloody shore,
Where flash a million swords,
And the dreadful cannon roar.
(Woe is me!)
There's a curse upon the land,
(Is that blood upon my hand?)
What can we do but stand
Out to sea?
From the dark and bloody shore,
Where flash a million swords,
And the dreadful cannon roar.
(Woe is me!)
There's a curse upon the land,
(Is that blood upon my hand?)
What can we do but stand
Out to sea?
| The poems of Richard Henry Stoddard | |