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Lucy Maud Montgomery - Off to the Fishing GroundLucy Maud Montgomery - Off to the Fishing Ground
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There`s a piping wind from a sunrise shore  Blowing over a silver sea, There`s a joyous voice in the lapsing tide  That calls enticingly; The mist of dawn has taken flight  To the dim horizon`s bound, And with wide sails set and eager hearts  We`re off to the fishing ground. Ho, comrades mine, how that brave wind sings  Like a great sea-harp afar! We whistle its wild notes back to it  As we cross the harbor bar. Behind us there are the homes we love  And hearts that are fond and true, And before us beckons a strong young day  On leagues of glorious blue. Comrades, a song as the fleet goes out,  A song of the orient sea! We are the heirs of its tingling strife,  Its courage and liberty. Sing as the white sails cream and fill,  And the foam in our wake is long, Sing till the headlands black and grim  Echo us back our song! Oh, `tis a glad and heartsome thing  To wake ere the night be done And steer the course that our fathers steered  In the path of the rising sun. The wind and welkin and wave are ours  Wherever our bourne is found, And we envy no landsman his dream and sleep  When we`re off to the fishing ground.
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