Our sails are spread before the wind,
And onward, onward swift we fly;
We’ve left our country far behind,
No prospect now invites the eye,
Save the blue sea, and cloudless sky.
Oh! when I wav’d my last good-bye,
To parents, friends, and Mary dear,
It was not fear that dimm’d mine eye,
This heart ne’er felt a thrill of fear —
It was affection caus’d the tear.
And while upon the heaving main
Our vessel dashes prondly on,
To meet those well-lov’d friends again,
With wealth and honours bravely won,
That is the hope I live upon.
But should some cannon pointed true,
Destroy these soothing dreams of glory,
Affection’s tears my grave will dew,
And Mary, when she hears my story,
Will shed love’s holiest tribute o’er me.
