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| This is the song of truth, Which sings of my soul and course; Of hardships I have borne, And of the trials I have known. When thrown by savage waves, And torn at heart by bitter cares, I have sought safety in my ship, And watched in fear throughout the night. As water strikes me to the cliffs, And icy chains bind up my feet, And hold me fast: Cold without and hot within, Fever torn and suffering, Exhausted by the seas. You cannot understand, You staying merry on the shore, You cannot know the sorrows I endure Upon the outcast straits. Deprived of love, Bedecked in frost, Besieged by flying storms of ice, And deafened by the roar of fierce swells. The cry of wild gulls my only play, The curlew call, the gannet wail, The only laughter heard all day. And only in the mew of birds, Are any festive echoes heard. And as the tempest crashes on the cliffs, The snowy coated tern replies, And sea sprayed screaming eagles cruise the skies. No kinsmen to give shelter, To give succour to my soul. I am a wretch upon the ocean, Waiting hours untold, Unregarded by the crowd Who in the cities place a trust, And find so little to bring pain; Being each inebriate and vain. The shadow of the night spreads wide, And the cold ice grains strike the earth, Just as seeds of doubt, Strike hard upon my heart, Upon the pitch of the miserable salt sea wave. Yet desire still makes my spirit advance, To seek new lands out far from hence, For no man ever can be so proud, Nor blessed in gold or youthful zest, Nor bold in deed and owed respect, That whilst he journeys he knows no doubt As to the course the Lord lays out. Not for that man the gentle harp, Nor treasures nor the touch of love. He rides the vast and churning tide, And lacks the comfort of the hearth. The orchards blossom, Cities burgeon, Pastures glow. All exhort the spirit and the heart To take a journey on the floods, And the cuckoo cries, In a saddened voice. The summer herald Warns of grief, Of bitterness and inner woes, That no man comfort blessed can ever know. So I, upon my exile way, Let fly my soul across the waves, To dance upon the tide, To roam the whale's native land, Both far and wide across the earth, Returning home to me, Both covetous and hungry. One lone gull cries out. She pulls upon my heart to go. To follow on the ocean, The path above Leviathan, For nothing in this fading life, so brief as it must be, Can offer the delights to which the Lord has promised me. All treasures wane. All men must meet their fate; In failing health, In violent hate, In slender years. All men condemned to die. We only in the world of friends, Can hope to keep alive, And only then if all our deeds, Are fitting to survive. Protect against the devil, Persevere against the foe. Make for yourself a legacy, Which men will proudly boast to know. The angels shall exalt you, And glory shall be yours, And eternity shall be your own reward; Now so few days remain. The splendours of the world all pass away. No more great kings or emperors, No worthy men of fame, No men to earn a noble name, No gracious lords. Our fathers, all so wise, With all their company have died. The joys are gone, The few live on to till the ground, To little use. With all the lords grown old, and glory mute, The humble too must soon accept the truth; That youth departs and colour fades, And he must mourn for all his honoured friends, As each in turn goes to his grave, And he by his own fleshy crust betrayed, Can no more taste the sweet, Nor touch the tender, For all this he shall surrender; Even clarity of thought, And trace of vigour. Your brother may your grave adorn, With tributes made in treasure, But all of it shall rot. No sinful soul is ever got with gold enough, To soft the terror of the great Lord's wrath. The earth is turning, On it's way. And though the Lord has forged it firm, And cast the shore and spread the sky, It is a fool who dreads not death, For fools alone may think they cannot die. Yet you are blessed, If you are true. Angelic mercies shall remember you. Your soul shall never tremble, If the Lord has forged it firm. Fare well upon the course, Keep the vessel steady straight, Between the passionate unrest, And venomed hate. In purest will preserve your heart, Wish no man to be torn apart in vicious flame. However cast your conscience be, No man resists his destiny; The might of God. Seek out a home, far far from here, And seek the path to take you there, See how upon the sea you fare, Approaching God's eternal care, And grace and love. Give trust unto the Lord above, He raises up those men who trust, And give him thanks.
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