Sydney Graham reach me a hand.
Girl of the red-gold hair, far from you, o love, my aim; girl of the red-gold hair, far from you my sorrow. Tonight on the Sound of Raasay my hand is on the helm, listlessly the wind shakes the sail, my heart is dumb, aching for your music, today and tomorrow indifferent to my expectation. […]
Oor boat is rigged tae face the greater sea,
/ The day daws blithely whan we must set sail.
/ Hou aften hae we…
Doo minds dee, whan da wind stöd wast,
/ I’d lay twa linns, and rin dee doon,
/ An tak a stane, an step…
A single sail a blaze of white
/ through haze on a pale blue sea!
/ What does it seek on a far-off shore?
Push the boat out, compañeros,
push the boat out, whatever the sea.
Who says we cannot guide ourselves
through the boiling reefs, black as they are,
the enemy of us all makes sure of it!
The power of Thought—the magic of the Mind! …
To stub an oar on a rock where none should be,
/ To have it rise with a slounge out of the…
I had seen coconut trees and tamarinds
/ and mangos
/ the white sails drying in the sun
/ the smoke of breakfast across the sky
Now let the anchor find some long-sought hold
/ In deep dim waters off this purple shore –…
I will knit him a foam-white jersey,
/ Soft as the breast of the mew;
/ Or, if he prefers, he
You, who from that first dawn
/ Have been built out of the trees’ body,
/ With a cry of joy, ringing the alarm