I.
COME rouse thee, lady fair,
The sun is shining brightly,
High through the cloudless air
The sea-bird roving lightly.
Come, from thy lattice look;
With many an oar in motion,
Boats have the creek forsook,
And course the azure ocean.
See on the dim waves borne,
White distant sails are gliding;
Good, on so fair a morn,
Is every heart abiding.

II.
(FOR FISHERMEN.)
The waves are rippling on the sand
The winds are still, the air is clear;
Then gather round, my merry band,
We'll hold on shore an hour of cheer.
The lord keeps vigil in his hall,
The dame in bower or turret high;
But meet the merriest mates of all
Beneath the summer's starlight sky.