Down on the shore, on the sunny shore! 



Where the salt smell cheers the land; 

 Where the tide moves bright under boundless light, 



And the surge on the glittering strand; 

 Where the children wade in the shallow pools, 



Or run from the path in play ; 

 With the hushing waves on its golden floor 



To sing a tuneful roundelay. 

 Down on the shore, on the stormy shore ! 



Beset by growling sea, 

 Whose mad waves leap on the rocky steep. 



Like wolves up a traveller's tree, 

 Where the foam flies wide, and an angry blast 



Blows the curlew off with a screech ; 

 Where the brown sca-wack, torn up by the roots, 



Is flung out of fishers' reach ; 

 Where tho tall ship rolls on the hidden shoals. 



And scatter her planks on the beach. 



