s all one to me. Any man from any place, so
long as he's a fair man and a brave man, and Lord knows ye're both
that. Well, here's to you both--a wee drop just, Tommie--easy--easy,"
and he began:

"Oh, Newf'undland and Cape Shore men, and men of Gloucester town,
With ye I've trawled o'er many banks and sailed the compass
roun';
I've ate with ye, and bunked with ye, and watched with ye all
three,
And better shipmates than ye were I never hope to see.
I've seen ye in the wild typhoon beneath a Southern sky,
I've seen ye when the Northern gales drove seas to mast-head
high,
But summer breeze or winter blow, from Hatt'ras to Cape Race,
I've yet to see ye with the sign of fear upon your face.

Oh, swingin' cross the Bay
Go eighty sail of seiners,
And every blessed one of them a-driving to her rail!

There's a gale upon the waters and there's foam upon the sea,
And looking out the window is a dark-eyed girl for me,
And driving her for Gloucester, maybe we don't know
What the little ones are thinking when the mother looks out so.
Oh, the children in the cradle and the wife's eyes out to sea,
The husband at the helm and looking westerly--
When you get to thinking that way, don't it make your heart's
blood foam?
Be sure it does--so here's a health to those we love at home.

West half no'the and drive her, we're abreast now of Cape Sable,
It's an everlasting hurricane, but here's the craft that's able--
When you get to thinking that way, don't it make your heart's
blood foam?
Be sure it does--so here's a health to those we love at home.

Oh, the roar of shoaling waters and the awful, awful sea,
Busted shrouds and parting cables, and the white death on our
lee;
Oh, the black, black night on Georges when eight score men were
lost--
Were ye there, ye men of Gloucester? Aye, ye were--and tossed
Like chips upon the water were your little craft that night,
Driving, swearing, calling out, but ne'er a call of fright.
So knowing ye for what ye are, ye masters of the sea,
Here's to ye, Gloucester fishermen, a health to ye from me.

And here's to it that once again
We'll trawl and seine and race again;
Here's to us that's living and to them that's gone before;
And when to us the Lord says, 'Come!'
We'll bow our heads, 'His will be