We claim our own, our native land;
Sweet is the seaman’s joyous shout,
“Land ahead! land ahead! look out! look out!”
Around on deck we gayly fly,
“Land ahead! land ahead!” with joy we cry;
Yon beacon light directs our way,
While grateful vows to Heaven we pay,
And soon our long-lost joys renew,
And bid the boisterous main adieu,
And bid the boisterous main adieu.