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8
HOMEWARD BOUND.
LOOSE every sail to the breeze,
the course of my vessel improve;
I've done with the toils of my sea,
sailors, I'm bound to my love.
Since Emma is as true as she's fair,
my grief I fling all to the wind,
'Tis a pleasant return for my care,
my mistress is constant and kind.
My sails are filled to my dear
what tropic bird swiftly can move,
Who cruel shall hold his career,
that returns to the nest of his love.
Hoist every sail to the breeze,
come shipmates and join in the song,
Let's drink while the ship cuts the sea,
to the gale that may drive her along.
FINIS.
