Sweet ’tis to sleep on a well feathered pillow,
Sweet from the embers the fulmar’s red egg, O;
Bounteous our store from the rock and the billow;
Fish and birds in good store, we need never to beg, O;
Brave, O brave, my lover true, he’s worth a maiden’s love:
(And the sea below is still as deep as the sky is high above!)
Hark to the fulmar and guillemot screaming:
Hark to the kittiwake, puffin, and gull, O:
See the white wings of solan goose gleaming;
Steadily, men! on the rope gently pull, O.