Clipper Days (A Song From Snug Harbor)

I am eighty years old and somewhat, But I give to God the praise That they made a sailor of me In the good old Clipper Days When men loved ships like women, And going to sea was more Than signing on as a deckhand And scrubbing a cabin floor, Or chipping rust from iron And painting . . . and chipping again . . . In the days of Clipper Sailing The sea was the place for men : You could spy our great ships running White-clouded, tier on tier; You could hear their trampling thunder As they leaned to, racing near; And it was 'heigh and ho, my lad,' And 'we are outward bound,' - And we sang full many a chantey As we walked the capstan round, And we sang full many a chantey As we drove through wind and wet To the music of Five Oceans Ringing in my memory yet . . . Go drive your dirty freighters That fill the sky with reek, - But we - we took in sky-sails High as mountain peaks; Go, fire your sweaty engines And watch your pistons run, - We had the wind to serve us, The living wind, my son, And we didn't need propellers That kicked a mess about, But we hauled away with chanteys Or we let the great sails out . . . And I'm eighty year old and somewhat - And I give to God the praise That they made a sailor of me In the good old Clipper Days!