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our pilots.
When treacherous mists, descending, shroud sea and land in gloom,
And to the weary mariner's ear is borne the breakers' boom,
And rock, or shoal, or sand may prove a death-trap or a grave,
He hears the welcome "Ship ahoy!" and hails the pilot brave.
And to the weary mariner's ear is borne the breakers' boom,
And rock, or shoal, or sand may prove a death-trap or a grave,
He hears the welcome "Ship ahoy!" and hails the pilot brave.
Tides ebb and flow, ships come and go,
And the pilot must be at his post,
For rock, sand, and shoal, he knows one and all,
And without him the ship would be lost.
And the pilot must be at his post,
For rock, sand, and shoal, he knows one and all,
And without him the ship would be lost.
Men think, when nights are dark and wild, of noble ships anear,
Laden with costly merchandise and precious lives—more dear;
But few e'er give a passing thought to him whose skilful hand
Pilots the vessel through perilous ways, and brings it safe to land.
Laden with costly merchandise and precious lives—more dear;
But few e'er give a passing thought to him whose skilful hand
Pilots the vessel through perilous ways, and brings it safe to land.
Tides ebb and flow, ships come and go,
And the pilot must be at his post,
With eye ever ready, nerve ever steady,
Or the good ship might be lost.
And the pilot must be at his post,
With eye ever ready, nerve ever steady,
Or the good ship might be lost.
