Southsea Girl
Fair winds blow this day and my ship waits for
my return to take her close past Cape's End.
We are fitted, laden low of white ore,
copra taken clear of pier sheds that bend
following shore to native village, Portfriend.
Scallywag will sail soon only waiting
tide that's high and my command to yea send
schooner into breeze with sheets full sighing.
I will hate to leave this island, Sooling.
England waits, but my heart stays here by you.
Always I'll remember those hours sharing
night's embrace within your home of bamboo.
Don't sob Sooling. Trade winds blow strong east, west.
I'll return to you or never find rest.
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