The barge she sat in, like a burnished throne,
Burned on the water: the poop was beaten gold;
Purple the sails, and so perfumed that
The winds were lovesick with them; the oars were silver,
Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made
The water which they beat to follow faster,
As amorous of their strokes.
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For why drives on that ship so fast,
Without or wave or wind?
The air is cut read more
For why drives on that ship so fast,
Without or wave or wind?
The air is cut away before,
And closes from behind.
A strong nor'wester's blowing, Bill;
Hark! don't ye hear it roar now?
Lord help 'em, how I read more
A strong nor'wester's blowing, Bill;
Hark! don't ye hear it roar now?
Lord help 'em, how I pities them
Unhappy folks on shore, now.
And all the way, to guide their chime,
With falling oars they kept the time.
And all the way, to guide their chime,
With falling oars they kept the time.
Her plates are scarred by the sun, dear lass,
And her ropes are taut with the dew,
read more
Her plates are scarred by the sun, dear lass,
And her ropes are taut with the dew,
For we're booming down on the old trail, our own trail, the out
trail,
We're sagging south on the Long Trail, the trail that is always
new.
The true ship is the ship builder.
The true ship is the ship builder.
Gracefully, gracefully glides our bark
On the bosom of Father Thames,
And before her bows the wavelets read more
Gracefully, gracefully glides our bark
On the bosom of Father Thames,
And before her bows the wavelets dark
Break into a thousand gems.
She comes majestic with her swelling sails,
The gallant Ship: along her watery way,
Homeward she drives read more
She comes majestic with her swelling sails,
The gallant Ship: along her watery way,
Homeward she drives before the favouring gales;
Now flirting at their length the streamers play,
And now they ripple with the ruffling breeze.
Lord, Thou hast made this world below the shadow of a dream,
An', taught by time, I tak' it read more
Lord, Thou hast made this world below the shadow of a dream,
An', taught by time, I tak' it so--exceptin' always steam,
From coupler-flange to spindle-guide I see thy Hand, O God--
Predestination in the stride o' yon connectin'-rod.
Like the watermen who advance forward while they look backward.
Like the watermen who advance forward while they look backward.
