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"Hurrah! the seaward breezes Sweep down the bay amain; Heave up, my lads, the anchor!
Run up the sail again!
Leave to the lubber landsmen The rail-car and the steed; The stars of heaven shall guide us, The breath of heaven shall speed!
"Now, brothers, for the icebergs Of frozen Labrador, Floating spectral in the moons.h.i.+ne, Along the low, black sh.o.r.e!
Where like snow the gannet's feathers On Brador's rocks are shed, And the noisy murr are flying, Like bleak scuds, overhead;
"Where in mist the rock is hiding, And the sharp reef lurks below, And the white squall smites in summer, And the autumn tempests blow; Where, through gray and rolling vapor, From evening unto morn, A thousand boats are hailing, Horn answering unto horn.
"Hurrah! for the Red Island, With the white cross on its crown!
Hurrah! for Meccatina, And its mountains bare and brown!
Where the Caribou's tall antlers O'er the dwarf wood freely toss, And the footstep of the Micmac Has no sound upon the moss.
"Hurrah! Hurrah!--the west wind Comes freshening down the bay, The rising sails are filling,-- Give way, my lads, give way!
Leave the coward landsman clinging To the dull earth, like a weed,-- The stars of heaven shall guide us, The breath of heaven shall speed!"
END.
