The wind blew across the bay
Refreshing was the breeze from the shore,
Cool and crisp on this autumn day
Like times of old and evermore.

Out at sea we feared the dark,
And prayed the boat remained intact,
The blasts of foghorns make their mark
To lead the ships to the light that lacked.

In the dead of night the fog rolls in
As the ghosts echo with the clanging bell,
This old port as black as sin
While on the rocks stand the gates of hell.

A whaling ship at night does pray
That the sea beneath is always deep,
Until the morn when the sun brings its ray
I close my eyes and drift to sleep.