I take her out on early day,        
Sailing from the greenest bay
Lured by that frothy spray-

A plump pup does sidle near,
Nymph that romps beneath the pier,
Dark eyes my heart do commandeer -

Now salt breeze does fan the flame,
Of what I did come to reclaim:
Although it can’t be mine again.

That rolling shore, with breakers near it,
Oh, that child did not fear it,
Buoyed up by youthful spirit:

Flippered children, alone will hear,
Having wandered from the pier
At my loss I shed a tear.

Neath our isles’ boat yard they play,
As the big freight ships go by,
As silver clouds do pass the sky.

Still the sea does froth and foam-
When I’ve returned to my new home-
Will part linger on, the beach to comb?