Away beyond the seething foam
Where curlews call with plaintive cries
I seem to hear the whisper, “Come”
And see the light in tender eyes.
An oh, how my heart flutters fast
When I think who might be waiting still
Away beyond, and from the past
Speaks to my will.
I wonder if they sight for me
The folks I left to seek my fate.
I seem to hear them wistfully
As though return were now too late.
But oh, how my hopes rise high
When I think I might be wanted there.
I vainly search the night-dimmed sky
Voicing a prayer.
(Song from a play set to music).