The Fisherman's Song

By the storm-torn shoreline a woman is standingThe spray strung like jewels in her hairAnd the sea tore the rocks near the desolate landingas though it had known she stood there.Chorus:For she had come down to condemn that wild oceanfor the murderous loss of her man,His boat sailed out on Wednesday morningAnd it's feared it's gone down with all hands.Oh and white were the wave-capsAnd wild was their partingSo fierce is the warring of love,But she prayed to the godsBoth of men and of sailorsNot to cast their cruel nets o'er her love.There's a school on the hillWhere the songs of dead fathersAre led toward tempests and gales,Where their God-given wingsAre clipped close to their bodies,And their eyes are bound-'round with ships' sails.What force leads a manTo a life filled with dangerHigh on seas or a mile underground?It's when need is his masterAnd poverty's no stranger,And there's no other work to be found.