LOW, thou bitter northern gale;
Heave, thou rolling, foaming sea;
Bend the mast and fill the sail,
Let the gallant ship go free!
Steady, lad! Be firm and steady!
On the compass fix your eye;
Ever watchful, ever ready,
Let the rain and spray go by!
We're steering for home.
Let the waves with angry thud
Shake the ship from stem to stern;
We can brave the flying scud,
It may go, it may return:
In the wind are cheerful voices,
In the waves a pleasant song,
And the sailor's heart rejoices
As the good ship bounds along.
We're steering for home.
Standing on the briny deck,
Beaten by the blinding spray,
Fearing neither storm nor wreck,
Let us keep our onward way.
Loving hearts for us are yearning,
Now in hope, and now in doubt,
Looking for our swift returning,
How they try to make us out!
We're steering for home.
Fainter blows the bitter gale,
And more peaceful grows the sea;
Now, boys, trim again the sail;
Land is looming on the lee!
See! the beacon-light is flashing,
Hark! those shouts are from the shore;
To the wharf home friends are dashing;
Now our hardest work is o'er.
Three cheers for our home!