The call of the seven seas

I hear the call of the wanderlust,

And God knows why, but go I must;

Until my bones are drifting dust

I'll follow the sea-gull's cry.

The bow-wash song to the dog-watch bell,

The kick o' the wheel and the chantey's spell

Get hold of a man in spite o' Hell,

And a better man than I!

I've ranged and rogued and I've done my bit;

I've danced the dance and I've paid for it;

I've turned my heel on the Scripture's writ

In the lure of an alien eye.

But I set no store in the like o' these;

I want the sweep of the Seven Seas,

The mainsail-haul to a biting breeze

And a star to steer me by!

And yet- the old dream comes to me

Of a quiet home where I would be

Beyond the trackless miles o' the sea

And the far-blown clouds o' foam.

My homeland's call sets me astir

With hopes as brave as once they were,

And my heart cries out to the cry of her,-

For she calls me, this time, home!