For the wind is strong and high.
Out where the waters deepen to blue,
billowing sails are hoisted high.
Out in the bay, they turn and tack ~
Gliding forward, pitching back.
Proud curving sails shimmer ~
Emerald, crimson, sapphire, silver, gold.
From this shore how they beckon,
herald’s pennons do we behold.
Seeking a full wind, they are ~
These brilliant standards sailing past.
The boats, like horses, for steersmen strong;
A lance upraised, advancing, in every stalwart mast.
And at their head, a schooner stands ~
Captain, General, a master for this fleet.
Wond’rous may their travels be,
with joyous return, and victory ~
With tales told well, of Ulmo’s Realm ~
The great, eternal Sea!