The Packet Ship Ashburton

The gallant ship is riding freeUpon the dancing wave,Her snowy sails are filled—the breezeIts gentle impulse gave.

And brightly forth, beneath the sun,(Whilst white-foam wreathed aroundHer graceful prow,) she glided, likeA bride with chaplets crowned.

And the waves will kiss her daily,Wooing with the breath of morn,And they'll aid her, whilst they greet her,As on her course she's borne.

How gracefully her white sails drooped,Ere freshly blew the breeze;How proudly, when her canvass filled.She rode upon the seas.

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The sun looks out from the blue sky,A glorious winter's sun,The white cliffs in the distance rise,The hoped-for land is won.

Now gladly launch thy swiftest boat,Row onward to the strand;Ye wand'rers from your native shoreStep out upon the land.

A few brief hours—a few short weeks—Once more upon the mainGlideth that bold and gallant ship—She seeketh home again.

Her swift prow dasheth thro' the wave,—We smile, her sails to greet;And welcome, with a sailor's love,The gallant shin so fleet.