harold, the wanderer.
51
Just look how the glittering spray
Is starting into foam,—
Hurrah, hurrah! we'll bear away,
For dear old England our home!
Is starting into foam,—
Hurrah, hurrah! we'll bear away,
For dear old England our home!
CHORUS.
Now for the ocean broad and free!
Now for the wide and trackless sea!
Cheerily, brothers, heave ho!
Cheerily, brothers, heave ho!
Now for the wide and trackless sea!
Cheerily, brothers, heave ho!
Cheerily, brothers, heave ho!
The fair Pacific is gained at last,
A tropic breeze comes sweeping past,
The winds now well filling every sail,
Onward she sped before the balmy gale.
As Harold was leaning o'er her bow,
Alas! how little did he expect or know
The dark clouds of bitter grief and sorrow
That o'er his head so soon would hover.
Suddenly a hand upon his arm was pressed,
And by a gentle voice was thus addressed:—
"Why, Harold, I ne'er thought to have found thee here!
Am I deceived?—Is it my friend Harold de Vere?"
Harold turned, and started from his place,
And once more gazed on his old companion's face.
A tropic breeze comes sweeping past,
The winds now well filling every sail,
Onward she sped before the balmy gale.
As Harold was leaning o'er her bow,
Alas! how little did he expect or know
The dark clouds of bitter grief and sorrow
That o'er his head so soon would hover.
Suddenly a hand upon his arm was pressed,
And by a gentle voice was thus addressed:—
"Why, Harold, I ne'er thought to have found thee here!
Am I deceived?—Is it my friend Harold de Vere?"
Harold turned, and started from his place,
And once more gazed on his old companion's face.
