Y'heave ho! my lads, the wind blows free,
A pleasant gale is on our lee,
And soon across the ocean clear
Our gallant barque shall bravely steer;
But ere we part from England's shores to-night,
A song we'll sing for home and beauty bright.
Then here's to the sailor, and here's to the hearts so true-
Who will think of him upon the waters blue?
Sailing, sailing over the bounding main,
For many a stormy wind shall blow ore Jack comes home again.
The sailor's life is bold and free,
His home is on the rolling sea,
And never heart more true and brave
Than he who launches on the wave;
Afar he speeds in distant climes to roam.
With jocund song he rides the sparkling foam.
Then here's to the sailor, and here's to, &c.
The tide is flowing with the pale,
Y'heave ho! my lads, set every sail;
The harbor bar we soon shall clear-
Farewell once more to home so dear-
For when the tempest rages loud and long,
That home shall be our griiding star among.
Then here's to the sailor, And here's to, &c.