The Stormy Petrel.
My course is o’er the sea, the sea,
Where the wind roams free,—
Where the tempest flies
On a wing of might,
And the billow rolls
In a robe of white!
My course is o’er the tide, the tide,
Where the fearless ride,
Where the bloody deed
In battle is done,
And the gory wreath
Of victory won!
My course is o’er the deep, the deep,
Where the lost ones sleep,—
Down, down in the hush
Of a coral bed,
Where the mermaid sighs
O’er the lonely dead!
My course is east—my course is west—
Where, where shall the petrel rest?—
In the cleft of a rock,
Where the surges sweep,
And lulled by the shock,
Shall the petrel sleep.
