The other boy, East, loves the deep blue Sea,
And helps the great ships along.
He flirts with the Mermaids, he rocks their waves,
And sings them his weird love-song.
The only real work that he has to do
Is to sweep up the morning skies.
And put the small blinking stars to bed
When it’s time for the Sun to rise.
He stays at the beaches in summer time,
And keeps them both fresh and cool.
He rides on the backs of the plunging whales;
He chases the mackerel school.
He laughs when the roar of the breaking surf
On some rocky coast he hears;
And the squawk of the gull, so harsh to us,
Is music to this lad’s ears.
Thus all the year round he roams abroad
O’er the billowy, bounding sea;
Knowing no bounds, no rules, no law.
But happy, content, and free.
He’s a fellow who loves to romp and play,
Who often has stormed and raved;
But, like other boys, I think you’ll find
He’s generally well-behaved.
