Will Ye My Lad
Will ye my lad, come sail with me
Cresting softly the swelling sea?
Hand to the oar, and face to the bow
Sail we the ocean, high wave and low.
The wind at our cheek, the briny sea’s dip
Rocks our frail bark, and threatens our ship.
The heave of the wave, our watery bower,
Lulls us at night with its sleepy power.
Day after day sweep we the earth,
‘Till safe we sail to our launching berth.
The lightning above, the worrisome gale,
None hinder us as onward we sail.
Straight and true, our craft does soar
Paddle we fast, spreading our oar.
Will ye my lad come sail with me?
None hath lived so wondrously free!
All fears behind, great joy to espy,
Cruise we to glory, both you and I!
Copyright © Nathan Tumas | Year Posted 2011
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