A Sail! A Sail!

The land was lying broad and fair

Behind the western sea;

And holy solitude was there,

And sweetest liberty.

The ling’ ring sun, at evening, hung

A glorious orb, divinely beaming

On silent lake and tree;

And ruddy light was o’er all streaming

Mark, man! For thee;

O’er valley, lake, and tree!

And now a thousand maidens stray

Or range the echoing groves

While fluttering near on pinions gay

Fan twice ten thousand loves

In that soft clime at evening time

Hope says “Wilt Thou be mine?”

All hands unmoor! Unmoor!

Hark to the hoarse, but welcome sound,

Startling the seaman’s sweetest slumbers,

The groaning Capstan’s laboring round,

The cheerful fifes enlivening numbers;

And ling’ ring idlers join the brawl,

And merry ship boys swell the call

All hands unmoor! Unmoor!

The cry’s “A sail! A sail!”

Brace high each nerve to dare the fight,

And boldly steer to seek the foeman;

One secret prayer to aid the right,

And many a secret thought to women!

Now spread the fluttering canvas wide,

And dash the foaming sea aside;

The cry’s “A sail! A sail!”

Three cheers for victory!

Hushed be each plaint o’er fallen brave;

Still every sigh to messmate given;

The seaman’s tomb is in the wave:

The heroes’ latest hope is heaven!

High lift the voice in revelry!

Gay raise the song, the shout the glee;

Three cheers for victory!

- Red Rover.

Written by Ida May Schaffer