Beneath her hand
She gazed far out, far out from land.
O ye ho, boys. Spread her wings!
Farthest away, I oftenest dreamed
That I was with her. Then it seemed
A single stride the ocean wide
Had bridged, and brought me to her side.
O ye ho, boys. Spread her wings!
But though so near we're drawing, now,
'T is farther off--I know not how.
We sail and sail: we see no home.
Would that we into port were come!
O ye ho, boys. Spread her wings!
At night, the same stars o'er the mast:
The mast sways round--however fast
We fly--still sways and swings around
One scanty circle's starry bound.
O ye ho, boys. Spread her wings!
Ah, many a month those stars have shone,
And many a golden morn has flown,
Since that so solemn, happy morn,
When, I away, my babe was born.
O ye ho, boys. Spread her wings!
And, though so near we're drawing, now,
'T is farther off--I know not how:--
I would not aught amiss had come
To babe or mother there, at home!
O ye ho, boys. Spread her wings!
'T is but a seeming: swiftly rush
The seas, beneath. I hear the crush
Of foamy ridges 'gainst the prow.
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