Mournful indeed is the bell of the buoy
That rolls in the wash of wave and tide.
Some places there are I’ve never been
Though I’ve seen them afar from the sea.
I grieve to think I’ll never know
Those places that my ship passed by.
The Faeroes when I saw them seemed
A wonderland of mist and promise
With cliffs of cloud that towered beyond
The wavetops of that northern sea
But soon those islands’siren songs
Were lost in the wind and far astern.
Then on a sunny afternoon
Once in the Skagerrak I saw
The home of Thor, the thunder god,
Slipping away on the starboard beam.
Do we not dream sometimes our ship
Will alter course and let us land
On foreign shores where people live
By different laws, where we may find
Some special kind of Shangri-la
In which as children we believed
Or has our world become too small
And have we ceased to dream at all?