Yet danger haunts those lovely isles,
The fever and the foe—
The brighter that the sun-beams fall,
The deeper shade they throw.
But that fair ship has 'scaped them all,
The battle and the wreck;
The fever has not touched a man
Upon her crowded deck.
Now home to England, home again,
Across the waves they go—
With triumph in her swelling sails,
And treasure down below.
Ah! many a hearth is happy now,
And those who feared before,
Now the good ship is homeward bound,
Believe in hope once more.
Two orphans—lovely sisters they—
Had worn the winter through;
The elder, for the younger's sake,
Watched the wild waters blue.
But now they looked, with eager eyes,
Towards the setting sun;
Rejoicing, as the evening came,
Another day was done.
