Poem By Francis W.T. Cooper
Tonight is night, all sailors love,
For myriad stars, shed light above,
And gentle breeze, breathes, so softly,
Stirs, mast and spars, a towering loftily.
'Tis like caress, of dear sweet maid,
That soothes our brows, our troubles laid,
And brings to all, such, sweet repose,
A sleep that sailors, seldom knows.
In tranquil pose, we harbour seek,
And there, we'll thank, in posture meek
God of creation, who calms our fears,
Brings us 'thro storms, with grateful tears,
Battered, bruised, but safe ashore,
We sailors thank you, evermore