Have shone like stars to light, boys,
Our watery way, our watery way.
We'll drink our English home, boys,
Our father land, our father land,
And the shores to which we're come, boys,
A sister strand, a sister strand.
Sunday, September 2d.
Rose at half-past six: the sun was shining brilliantly; woke H—— and went on deck with her. The morning was glorious, the sun had risen two hours in the sky, the sea was cut by a strong breeze, and curled into ridges that came like emerald banks crowned with golden spray round our ship; she was going through the water at nine knots an hour. I sat and watched the line of light that lay like a fairy road to the east—towards my country, my dear dear home.
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