Ever and ever sounded their roar,
Foaming and dashing against the shore.
Solo. Oh, when shall the ocean’s troubled breast
Calmly and quietly sink to rest?
When shall the waves’ wild murmurs cease
And the mighty waters be hushed in peace?
Concert. It cannot be quiet; it cannot rest.
There must be heaving on ocean’s breast,
The tide must ebb and the tide must flow
While the changing seasons come and go.