She walks the waters like a thing of life,
And seems to dare the elements to strife.

She walks the waters like a thing of life,
And seems to dare the elements to strife.

Where lies the land, to which the ship would go?Far, far ahead is all, her seamen know.And where the land read more

Where lies the land, to which the ship would go?Far, far ahead is all, her seamen know.And where the land she travels from?Away, far far behind, is all that they can say.

The wooden wall alone should remain unconquered.

The wooden wall alone should remain unconquered.

For why drives on that ship so fast,
Without or wave or wind?
The air is cut read more

For why drives on that ship so fast,
Without or wave or wind?
The air is cut away before,
And closes from behind.

A strong nor'wester's blowing, Bill;
Hark! don't ye hear it roar now?
Lord help 'em, how I read more

A strong nor'wester's blowing, Bill;
Hark! don't ye hear it roar now?
Lord help 'em, how I pities them
Unhappy folks on shore, now.

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.

The Liner she's a lady, an' she never looks nor 'eeds--
The Man-o'-War's 'er 'usband an' 'e gives 'er read more

The Liner she's a lady, an' she never looks nor 'eeds--
The Man-o'-War's 'er 'usband an' 'e gives 'er all she needs;
But, oh, the little cargo-boats, that sail the wet seas roun',
They're just the same as you an' me, a'-plyin' up an' down.

Lord, Thou hast made this world below the shadow of a dream,
An', taught by time, I tak' it read more

Lord, Thou hast made this world below the shadow of a dream,
An', taught by time, I tak' it so--exceptin' always steam,
From coupler-flange to spindle-guide I see thy Hand, O God--
Predestination in the stride o' yon connectin'-rod.

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.