She sings of sunken ships, of sailors' graves
Her song within each splash upon the sand
A melody of crashing, tossing waves
The song is sometimes but a gentle lull
A whispered promise speaking of delight
It mingles with the cry of every gull
And casts its luring call throughout the night
Sometimes the song is whipped into a roar
A sound of beauty terrible to hear
The thrashing waves that pound upon the shore
The frenzied whistling wind that fills with fear
And still she calls me, longs to set me free--
I'll always love the wild and singing sea.