Shipmates o' mine
W. Sanderson
Tell me, tell me, where are you sailing,
Shipmates o' mine?
The morn is cold and the great winds are wailing,
Shipmates o' mine!
“Forth we must go,” their brave words are falling,
“Forth to the new land that ever is calling!”
Fortune await yot there! Good luck go with you!
Shipmates o' mine!
Tell me, tell me, where are you roaming,
Shipmates o' mine?
O'er blue or where the grey waves are foaming,
Shipmates o' mine?
Never a message, oh! tell us your story,
All Fate has giv'n you, sorrow or glory,
Send us one word, for our lone hearts are waiting,
Shipmates o' mine!
Tell me, tell me, where are you sleeping,
Shipmates o' mine?
Down, deep down, where no rough tide is leaping,
Shipmates o' mine!
There in your slumber the great guns you're hearing,
Over your heads the proud ships are steering,
Till the trumpet shall sound, and your Captain shall wake you,
Shipmates o' mine.