Far, Far at Sea (Stirling)/The Sailors Adieu
For other versions of this work, see The Sailor's Adieu.
THE SAILOR's ADIEU.
The topsails shiver in the wind,
The ship she casts to sea:
But yet my heart, my soul, my mind,
Are, Mary, moor'd with thee:
For though thy sailor's bound afar,
Still love shall be my leading star.
The ship she casts to sea:
But yet my heart, my soul, my mind,
Are, Mary, moor'd with thee:
For though thy sailor's bound afar,
Still love shall be my leading star.
Should landmen flatter when we're sail'd,
O doubt their artful tales;
No gallant sailor ever fail'd,
If Love breath'd constant gales.
Thou art the compass of my soul,
Which steers my heart from pole to pole.
O doubt their artful tales;
No gallant sailor ever fail'd,
If Love breath'd constant gales.
Thou art the compass of my soul,
Which steers my heart from pole to pole.
Sirens in every port we meet,
More fell than rocks or waves;
But such as grace the British fleet,
Are lovers, and not slaves.
No foes our courage shall subdue,
Although we leave our hearts with you.
More fell than rocks or waves;
But such as grace the British fleet,
Are lovers, and not slaves.
No foes our courage shall subdue,
Although we leave our hearts with you.
These are our cares; but if you're kind,
We'll scorn the dashing main,
The rocks, the billows, and the wind,
The power of France and Spain.
Now Britain's glory rests with you;
Our sails are full—sweet girls adieu.
We'll scorn the dashing main,
The rocks, the billows, and the wind,
The power of France and Spain.
Now Britain's glory rests with you;
Our sails are full—sweet girls adieu.