A Sea Song

written by

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Old Albion sat on a crag of late.
  And sang out--"Ahoy! ahoy!
Long, life to the captain, good luck to the mate.
And this to my sailor boy!
  Come over, come home,
  Through the salt sea foam,
  My sailor, my sailor boy.

"Here's a crown to be given away, I ween,
  A crown for my sailor's head,
And all for the worth of a widowed queen,
  And the love of the noble dead;
  And the fear and fame
  Of the island's name
  Where my boy was born and bred.

"Content thee, content thee, let it alone,
  Thou marked for a choice so rare;
Though treaties be treaties, never a throne
  Was proffered for cause as fair.
  Yet come to me home,
  Through the salt sea foam,
  For the Greek must ask elsewhere.

"'Tis a pity, my sailor, but who can tell?
  Many lands they look to me;
One of these might be wanting a Prince as well,
  But that's as hereafter may be."
  She raised her white head
  And laughed; and she said
  "That's as hereafter may be."

© Jean Ingelow