1. The Sailing
Greet ye the morning, laugh her up,
And sing the Sun below,
For it’s out wi’ me to the Carib Sea
Where the scented east-winds blow;
O the day is new and the galleons few
That cling to the desperate rendezvous
We know, we know;
So lay your lingering steel away
And seamen be for another day,
For another Sun and our goal is won,
Out on the Carib Sea!
For Harnadino harbor lies
But fifty leagues ahead,
So an’ we speak no sail this week
We dine on Spanish bread;
So an’ we grip no scented ship
There’s a fairer goal to our golden trip
I’ the bay, i’ the bay;
So handle your hemp as ye polish your steel,
Gold’s in the offing, war’s at the wheel,—
And you’re out wi’ me to the Carib Sea,
Out to the Carib Sea!