Upon misty islands where I was born

Where I have trod across hill moor and snow

Since I was a lad

Where my father’s father and forefathers before

Of generations now long ago gone

That did toil and reap

Plant and sow

Did cut and fashion from oaks

Both broad and long

Tall ships no more to languish

On these tender shores

But to set forth across open seas

To explore exchange and take

In the name of some holy saint named trade

With no fear of falling off the edge of worlds end

Or being burnt by all that is unknown

Drowned swallowed up in a storm

Or torn to shreds

Who did not stop or bring about their own demise

In a bid to build an empire

Across lands where the sun never sets

To chase that golden purse

To chide collide and war with other like

Minded souls

Big and small

Some with little more than canoes

Others with ships loaded in full sail

Tipped and topped to the brim

Across salty tongue licked breeze

Now becalmed

By all that can no longer be found and done

In the name of greed