The barge she sat in, like a burnished throne,
Burned on the water: the poop was beaten gold;
read more

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.

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.

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.

And the stately ships go on
To their haven under the hill.

And the stately ships go on
To their haven under the hill.

Build me straight. O worthy Master!
Staunch and strong, a goodly vessel
That shall laugh at all read more

Build me straight. O worthy Master!
Staunch and strong, a goodly vessel
That shall laugh at all disaster,
And with wave and whirlwind wrestle!

Morn on the waters, and purple and bright
Bursts on the billows the flushing of light
O'er read more

Morn on the waters, and purple and bright
Bursts on the billows the flushing of light
O'er the glad waves, like a child of the sun,
See the tall vessel goes gallantly on.

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.

It would have been as though he [President Andrew Johnson] were
in a boat of stone with masts of read more

It would have been as though he [President Andrew Johnson] were
in a boat of stone with masts of steel, sails of lead, ropes of
iron, the devil at the helm, the wrath of God for a breeze, and
hell for his destination.

There's not a ship that sails the ocean,
But every climate, every soil,
Must bring its tribute, read more

There's not a ship that sails the ocean,
But every climate, every soil,
Must bring its tribute, great or small,
And help to build the wooden wall!