A valediction

We're bound for blue water where the great winds blow,

It's time to get the tacks aboard, time for us to go;

The crowd's at the capstan and the tune's in the shout,

"A long pull, a strong pull,

and warp the hooker out

."

The bow-wash is eddying, spreading from the bows,

Aloft and loose the topsails and some one give a rouse;

A salt-Atlantic chanty shall be music to the dead,

"A long pull, a strong pull,

and the yard to the masthead

."

Shrilly squeal the running sheaves, the weather-gear strains,

Such a clatter of chain-sheets, the devil's in the chains;

Over us the bright stars, under us the drowned,

"A long pull, a strong pull,

and we're outward bound

."

Yonder, round and ruddy, is the mellow old moon,

The red-funnelled tug has gone, and now, sonny, soon

We'll be clear of the Channel, so watch how you steer,

"Ease her when she pitches,

and so-long, my dear

."