Tied her white linen apron to a handy boat book,
And waved it high o'er her head.
"Home, home for a lantern," to the laddie she cried.
Home, home for the lantern ran he,
Returning, he swung it, back and forth, to and fro,
That his brave sailor father might see.
Soaked to the skin with the rain and the spray,
His face as white as the foam,
"Must I drown in sight of my wife," he said,
"Must I die within reach of my home."