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Henry Kendall - God Help our Men at Sea
Work rating: Low

The wild night comes like an owl to its lair,
 The black clouds follow fast,
And the sun-gleams die, and the lightnings glare,
 And the ships go heaving past, past, past —
 The ships go heaving past!
    Bar the doors, and higher, higher
    Pile the faggots on the fire:
    Now abroad, by many a light,
    Empty seats there are to-night —
    Empty seats that none may fill,
    For the storm grows louder still:
How it surges and swells through the gorges and dells,
 Under the ledges and over the lea,
Where a watery sound goeth moaning around —
    God help our men at sea!

Oh! never a tempest blew on the shore
 But that some heart did moan
For a darling voice it would hear no more
 And a face that had left it lone, lone, lone —
 A face that had left it lone!
    I am watching by a pane
    Darkened with the gusty rain,
    Watching, through a mist of tears,
    Sad with thoughts of other years,
    For a brother I did miss
    In a stormy time like this.
Ah! the torrent howls past, like a fiend on the blast,
 Under the ledges and over the lea;
And the pent waters gleam, and the wild surges scream —
    God help our men at sea!

Ah, Lord! they may grope through the dark to find
 Thy hand within the gale;
And cries may rise on the wings of the wind
 From mariners weary and pale, pale, pale —
 From mariners weary and pale!
    `Tis a fearful thing to know,
    While the storm-winds loudly blow,
    That a man can sometimes come
    Too near to his father`s home;
    So that he shall kneel and say,
    "Lord, I would be far away!"
Ho! the hurricanes roar round a dangerous shore,
 Under the ledges and over the lea;
And there twinkles a light on the billows so white —
    God help our men at sea!
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