text: Out of the winds' and the waves' riot,
  Out of the loud foam,
  He has put in to a great quiet
  And a still home.
  
  Here he may lie at ease and wonder
  Why the old ship waits,
  And hark for the surge and the strong thunder
  Of the full Straits,
  
  And look for the fishing fleet at morning,
  Shadows like lost souls,
  Slide through the fog where the seal's warning
  Betrays the shoals,
  
  And watch for the deep-sea liner climbing
  Out of the bright West,
  With a salmon-sky and her wake shining
  Like a tern's breast,
  
  And never know he is done for ever
  With the old sea's pride,
  Borne from the fight and the full endeavour
  On an ebb tide.