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Lyrics
Up aloft amid the rigging,
Swiftly blows the favouring gale,
Strong as springtime in its blossom,
Filling out each bending sail.
And the waves we leave behind us,
Seem to murmur as they rise:
We have tarried here to bear you,
To the land you dearly prize.
Chorus: Rolling home rolling home,
Rolling home across the sea,
Rolling home to dear old England,
Rolling home, dear land to thee.
Full then thousand miles behind us,
And a thousand miles before,
Ancient ocean waves to waft us,
To the well remembered shore.
Call all hands to man the capstan,
See the cable running clear,
Heave away, and with a will boys,
For old England we will steer.
Round Cape Horn on a winter’s morning,
All among the ice and snow,
You will hear our shellbacks singing,
Sheet her home, boys, let her go.
Now the Lizard Light’s a-shining,
And we’re bound up to the Nore,
With the canvas full and drawing,
Soon we’ll be on England’s shore.
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Howling Wind
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