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Glory’s Call
par
Robert Louis Stevenson
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So brace the mizzen sail We face the raging gale We're out of port and bound for glory's call The wind blows sure and smart The wind awoke my heart Again I go a-sailin' o'er the sea To hear the cordage moan And the straining timbers groan And see the flying canon lie alee So brace the mizzen sail We face the raging gale We're out of port and bound for glory's call Oh, sailor of the pleat It's time to stir the fleet It's time to man the dingey and the row It's lay your hand in mine And it's empty down the wine Drain a healthy debt before we go So brace the mizzen sail We face the raging gale We're out of port and bound for glory's call So brace the mizzen sail We face the raging gale We're out of port and bound for glory's call To death, my lads, we sail It's death that blows the gail Death that holds a tiller as we ride For he is the king of all In the tempest and the squall Ruler of the ocean wild and wide So brace the mizzen sail We face the raging gale We're out of port and bound for glory's call So brace the mizzen sail We face the raging gale We're out of port and bound for glory's call To death, my lads, we sail And it's death that blows the gail Death that holds a tiller as we ride For he is the king of all In the tempest and the squall And the ruler of the ocean wild and wide And the ruler of the ocean wild and wide
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