The bay was faithful, wild or still,
To the heart of the ocean far away.
There were three pines above the comb
That, when the sun flared and went down,
Grew like three warriors reaving home
The plunder of a burning town.
A piper lived within the grove,
Tending the pasture of his sheep;
His heart was swayed with faithful love,
From the springs of God’s ocean clear and deep.