And the thought of a coming time was sweet,
When the sea should be no more.
No more, no more shall mothers and wives
Dream of loves that the blue wastes hide,
No more shall the vigorous hearts and lives
Be flung to the wind and tide!
Oh, Father, follow the gallant ships
Through the light of the morning pale!
Thou hearest the prayer of the loving lips,
Thy mercy never can fail.