The sound of the waves is the sound of tears, And the wind that drifts on the sea Is the restless ghost of the bygone years, With their pain and their ecstasy. The far white ships with their shining sails Are the hopes of a faithful heart, Sent forth to fight through the storm and gales, With never a guiding chart. And what of the pilot who stands above And steadfastly holds the wheel? Oh! he is the man who believed in love Before he forgot to feel. |