The Trade-Wind's Song

Oh, I am the wind that the seamen love— I am steady, and strong, and true; They follow my track by the clouds above O'er the fathomless tropic blue.

For close by the shores of the sunny Azores Their ships I await to convoy; When into their sails my constant breath pours They hail me with turbulent joy.

Oh, I bring them a rest from the tiresome toil Of trimming the sail to the blast; For I love to keep gear all snug in the coil And the sheets and the braces all fast.

From the deck to the truck I pour all my force, In spanker and jib I am strong; For I make every course to pull like a horse And worry the great ship along.

As I fly o'er the blue I sing to the crew, Who answer me back with a hail; I whistle a note as I slip by the throat Of the buoyant and bellying sail.

I laugh when the wave leaps over the head And the jibs thro' the spray-bow shine, For an acre of foam is broken and spread When she shoulders and tosses the brine.

Thro' daylight and dark I follow the bark, I keep like a hound on her trail; I'm strongest at noon, yet under the moon I stiffen the bunt of her sail;

The wide ocean thro' for days I pursue, Till slowly my forces all wane; Then in whispers of calm I bid them adieu And vanish in thunder and rain.

Oh, I am the wind that the seamen love— I am steady, and strong, and true; They follow my track by the clouds above O'er the fathomless tropic blue.