Of salt wave washed his swarthy cheek.

“What shall I say, brave Adm’r’l, say,

If we sight naught but seas at dawn?”

“Why you shall say at break of day:

‘Sail on! sail on! sail on! sail on!’”

They sailed and sailed, as the winds might blow,

Until at last the blanched mate said:

“Why, not even God would know

Should I and all my men fall dead.

These very winds forget their way,