Upon Love's sea, our barques shall sail
No more together;
The dark'ning sky and rising gale
Bring stormy weather.

The cruel Fates, at last, sweetheart,
Our love must sever, —
Must furl our sails, drift us apart
For aye and ever.

I pray a sunny port be thine,
When storm is over;
I know whatever lot be mine,
I'm still thy lover.

Upon Love's sea, our barques shall sail
No more together;
The dark'ning sky and rising gale
Bring stormy weather.

The cruel Fates, at last, sweetheart,
Our love must sever, —
Must furl our sails, drift us apart
For aye and ever.

I pray a sunny port be thine,
When storm is over;
I know whatever lot be mine,
I'm still thy lover.