The rushing winds around us sweep,
The storms about us roar,
And we-we skim the foaming deep,
A thousand miles from shore.
Fierce o’er the wave the tempests ride,
And far from land are we,
Star of the North! with none to guide,
But Providence and thee!
 
When o’er our deck the billows dash,
And howls the rushing blast,
When from afar the thunder-flash
Has split our gallant mast;
When darkness deep has veiled the sky,
Star of the troubled sea!
The sailor turns his anxious eye
Confidingly to thee.
 
One beam of thine, O welcome star!
The seaman’s beacon light,
Cheers his lone heart, when wandering far
In danger’s lowering night.
Fierce o’er the deep the whirlwinds ride,
Far, far from land are we,
Star of the North! with none to guide,
But Providence and thee!

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