Classic Poem

Blow high, blow low! let tempest tear
—The mainmast by the board!
My heart (with thoughts of thee, my dear!
—And love well stored)

Shall brave all danger, scorn all fear,
—The roaring wind, the raging sea,
——In hopes, on shore,
——To be once more
—Safe moored with thee.

Aloft, while mountain-high we go,
—The whistling winds that scud along,
And the surge roaring from below,
——Shall my signal be
——To think on thee.
—And this shall be my Song,
Blow high, blow low! let tempest tear. . . .

And on that night (when all the crew
—The memory of their former lives,
O'er flowing cans of flip renew,
—And drink their sweethearts and their wives),
——I'll heave a sigh,
——And think of thee.
—And, as the ship toils through the sea,
—The burden of my Song shall be,
Blow high, blow low! let tempest tear. . . .