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And out upon the ocean
 Go the ships all bounding free,
With thy gales to bear them onward,
 O'er the bright rejoicing sea.

II.

There are voices, many voices,
 That ever wake with thee—
The laughter of the mountain streams,
 The music of the bee;
Tile humming of bright insect wings
 Amid the leafy trees,
And tile softly breathing whispers
 Of the perfume-laden breeze—
And the merry, merry measures
 Of the feathered songsters gay,
In the meadows and the woodlands,
 Far away—far away!

III.

Thou art roving on the mountains,
 And thy voice is in the dells,
By the sheen of silvery fountains,
 Where the water-spirit dwells;