The wind in the shrouds has a wintry tune,
And the foam is flying free.
Brothers, a night of terror and gloom
Speaks in the cloud and gathering roar:
Thank God, He has given us broad sea-room,
A thousand miles from shore.
Down with the hatches on those who sleep!
The wild and whistling deck have we;
Good watch, my brothers, to-night we’ll keep,
While the tempest is on the sea!