O for a soft and gentle wind! I heard a fair one cry; But give to me the snoring breeze And white waves heaving high; And white waves heaving high, my lads, The good ship tight and free- The world of waters is our home, And merry men are we.
There's tempest in yon horned moon, And lightning in yon cloud; But hark the music, mariners! The wind is piping loud; The wind is piping loud, my boys, The lightning flashes free- While the hollow oak our palace is, Our heritage the sea.
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