Southsea Girl

Fair winds blow this day and my ship waits for my return to take her close past Cape's End. We are fitted, laden low of white ore, copra taken clear of pier sheds that bend following shore to native village, Portfriend. Scallywag will sail soon only waiting tide that's high and my command to yea send schooner into breeze with sheets full sighing. I will hate to leave this island, Sooling. England waits, but my heart stays here by you. Always I'll remember those hours sharing night's embrace within your home of bamboo. Don't sob Sooling. Trade winds blow strong east, west. I'll return to you or never find rest.