Up aloft amid the rigging
Swiftly blows the favouring gale
Strong as springtime in its blossom,
Filling out each swelling sail
And the waves we leave behind us
Seem to murmur as they rise,
We have tarried here to bear you,
To the land you dearly prize.
Rolling home, rolling home,
Rolling home across the sea;
Rolling home to dear old England
Rolling home, dear land to thee!
Full ten thousand miles behind us,
And a thousand miles before,
Ancient ocean waves to waft us
To the well-remembered shore.
Call all hands to man the capstan
See the cable run down clear
Heave away and with a will boys
For old England we will steer
Round Cape Horn on a winter’s morning
Now among the ice and snow,
You will hear our shellbacks singin’
Sheet her home, boys, let ’er go!
Now the Lizard Light’s a-shinin’
And we’re bound up to the Nore,
With the canvas full an’ drawin’
Soon we’ll be on England’s shore.