The strong winds whisper o'er the sea,
   Flinging the gray-gnarled ocean's spate;
The gray waves lash along the lea.

The lone gulls wings are high and free,
   The great seal trumpets for his mate;
The high winds drum, the wild winds dree.

The gray shoals roar unceasingly,
   Where combers march in kingly state,
The crest-crowned monarchs of the sea.

And now, along the lone, white lea,
   The surges fade, the winds abate.
And the wide sea lies silently.

But far to islands, restlessly
   Surges the tide, unreined and great,
Forever roaming and forever free.

And thus my soul, forever restlessly,
   Longs for the outworld, vast, unultimate,
The vasty freedom of the swinging sea,
Forever roaming and forever free.