Is rising fast! Strike sail!"
And one there sat upon the deck, in captive misery,
Whose tears ran mingling with the flood, the flood of sky and sea.
Lost in the tempest of his thoughts, he fondly breathed a prayer,
Whose mournful words were echoed by the mount of his despair:
"Strike sail! Strike sail! The furious gale
Is rising fast! Strike sail!"
"If I am captive and a slave, the time shall come when God
Will bring me freed, to tread once more my own, my native sod!
Then all my ancient glory shall return to me for aye.