Away, away, o'er the bounding sea
My spirit flies like a gull;
For I know my Mary is watching for me,
And the moon is bright and full.
She sits on the rock by the sounding shore,
And gazes over the sea;
And she sighs, "Will my sailor-boy come no more?
Will he never come back to me?"
The moonbeams play in her raven hair;
And the soft breeze kisses her brow;
But if your sailor-boy, love, were there,
He would kiss your sweet lips I trow.
And mother—she sits in the cottage-door;
But her heart is out on the sea;
And she sighs, "Will my sailor-boy come no more?
Will he never come back to me?"
Ye winds that over the billows roam
With a low and sullen moan,
O swiftly come to waft me home;
O bear me back to my own.
For long have I been on the billowy deep,
On the boundless waste of sea;
And while I sleep there are two who weep,
And watch and pray for me.
When the mad storm roars till the stoutest fear
And the thunders roll over the sea,
I think of you, Mary and mother dear,
For I know you are thinking of me.
Then blow, ye winds, for my swift return;
Let the tempest roar o'er the main;
Let the billows yearn and the lightning burn;
They will hasten me home again.