The Deep-Water Man

O give me the Pole Star overhead, A slithering deck to my feet, A forward bunk for my downy bed, And the sea for my village street, The galley’s glow for my warm hearthstone, And my mates for my kin and friends⁠— Then earth’s long leagues are my very own To the place where the round world ends. There’s never a richer man than I, Nor a poorer under the sun; For all of my boundless riches lie In the things I have seen and done⁠— The songs I’ve sung and the laughs I’ve laughed⁠— Oh, that’s wealth as it ought to be, For when the Skipper shall call me aft I can take it along with me. A-roaring down the Atlantic lanes, Or cruising a tropical sea, The balmy Trades, or the wind-whipped rains, Are a bit of the same to me. I’m home wherever the anchors fall And take my idolatrous ease⁠— I’ve got a girl in each port of call To be found on the seven seas. Oh, loves I’ve known that were deep and strong, Of some ports I am more than fond, But woman nor town can hold me long From the call of the ones beyond. So, ever and always outward bound (Well, I guess it’s the fate of some) Till the day their keels go hard aground In the Port of the Kingdom Come.