From the New York Tribune, February 2, 1913. By A. Cunningham. A wet sheet and a flowing sea, A wind that follows fast And fills the white and rustling sail And bends the gallant mast; And bends the gallant mast, my boys, While like the eagle free Away the good ship flies, and leaves Old England on the lee. O for the soft and gentle wind! I hear a fair one cry; But give to me the morning breeze And white waves heaving high; And white waves heaving high, my lads, The good ship tight and free— The world of waters is our home And merry men are we. There’s a tempest in yon hornéd moon And lightning in yon cloud But hark the music, mariners! The wind is piping loud; The wind is piping loud, my boys, The lightning flashes free— While the hollow oak our palace is Our heritage the sea.
A Wet Sheet and Flowing Sea