The barge she sat in, like a burnished throne,
Burned on the water: the poop was beaten gold;
Purple the sails, and so perfumed that
The winds were lovesick with them; the oars were silver,
Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made
The water which they beat to follow faster,
As amorous of their strokes.
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They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great
waters:
These see the read more
They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great
waters:
These see the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep.
Her plates are scarred by the sun, dear lass,
And her ropes are taut with the dew,
read more
Her plates are scarred by the sun, dear lass,
And her ropes are taut with the dew,
For we're booming down on the old trail, our own trail, the out
trail,
We're sagging south on the Long Trail, the trail that is always
new.
She bears her down majestically near,
Speed on her prow, and terror in her tier.
She bears her down majestically near,
Speed on her prow, and terror in her tier.
On the ear
Drops the light drip of the suspended oar.
On the ear
Drops the light drip of the suspended oar.
Ships that sailed for sunny isles,
But never came to shore.
Ships that sailed for sunny isles,
But never came to shore.
The true ship is the ship builder.
The true ship is the ship builder.
And the stately ships go on
To their haven under the hill.
And the stately ships go on
To their haven under the hill.
And all the way, to guide their chime,
With falling oars they kept the time.
And all the way, to guide their chime,
With falling oars they kept the time.
For she is such a smart little craft,
Such a neat little, sweet little craft--
Such a read more
For she is such a smart little craft,
Such a neat little, sweet little craft--
Such a bright little,
Tight little,
Slight little,
Light little,
Trim little, slim little craft!
