Heard ye the long, low roar

Heard ye the long, low roar
Blend with the sea-mew's cry?
Saw ye the nearing shore
Where the white foam-wreaths lie ?
O wait, seaman, wait while the tempest shall last,
For my first is a danger thou hast not passed.

How shall the seaman wait ?
There stands his white-walled home,
From its blithely opened gate
Never more need he roam.
My second he brings from a distant realm,
And leaves he for ever the weary helm.

On ! for the tide ebbs fast !
On ! for the night grows dark,
But the cold wave-arms are cast
Round the seaman's sinking bark.
He makes my whole with the angry sea, — -
Thine be the gold, so my life go free !