I deny not my childhood yearnings,
As oft they call to me,
So thus I cast off my lines and moorings
And set my course to sea.
I love the breaking spray upon the bow
And a seaward helm at hand,
For though I am the captain of my ship,
The sea is in command.
An anchor has sought to secure my soul,
Yet my dreams come oft to me,
And I find myself then harbour bound
Yearning out to sea.
I long for the touch of the seaward wind
That shall farther me from land,
And thus I remain the captain of my ship,
For the sea is in command.
I yet hearken each day to the mighty main,
As oft it calls to me,
Thus I am lured upon those rolling waves
That breadth the sovereign sea.
O, I dread the gales but I love the sails
And the seaward helm at hand,
For though I am the captain of my ship,
The sea is in command!