Dreams Of The SeaI know not why I yearn for thee again, To sail once more upon thy fickle flood; I'll hear thy waves wash under my death-bed, Thy salt is lodged forever in my blood.. Yet
Trang 1Dreams Of The Sea
I know not why I yearn for thee again,
To sail once more upon thy fickle flood;
I'll hear thy waves wash under my
death-bed,
Thy salt is lodged forever in my blood
Yet I have seen thee lash the vessel's
sides
In fury, with thy many tailed whip;
And I have seen thee, too, like Galilee,
When Jesus walked in peace to Simon's
ship
And I have seen thy gentle breeze as
soft
As summer's, when it makes the
cornfields run;
And I have seen thy rude and lusty gale
Make ships show half their bellies to the
sun
Thou knowest the way to tame the
wildest life, Thou knowest the way to
bend the great and proud:
I think of that Armada whose puffed
sails, Greedy and large, came
swallowing every cloud
But I have seen the sea-boy, young and
drowned, Lying on shore and by thy
cruel hand, A seaweed beard was on his
tender chin, His heaven-blue eyes were
filled with common sand
And yet, for all, I yearn for thee again,
To sail once more upon thy fickle flood:
I'll hear thy waves wash under my
death-bed, Thy salt is lodged forever in
my blood
driːmz əv ðə siː |
aɪ nəʊ nɒt wa(ɪ) aɪ jɜːn fə ðiː əɡen |
tə seɪl wʌns mɔːr əpɒn ðaɪ fɪkl̩
flʌd | aɪl hɪə ðaɪ weɪvz wɒʃ ʌndə maɪ deθ bed |
ðaɪ sɔːlt ɪz lɒdʒd fərevər ɪn maɪ blʌd |
jet aɪ həv siːn ðiː læʃ ðə vesəlz saɪdz |
ɪn fjʊəri | wɪð ðaɪ meni teɪld wɪp | ənd aɪ həv siːn ðiː | tuː | laɪk ˌɡæləˈliː | wen dʒiːzəs ˈwɔːkt ɪn piːs tə s
aɪmənz ʃɪp | ənd aɪ həv siːn ðaɪ dʒentl̩ briːz əz sɒft |
əz sʌməz | wen ɪt meɪks ðə kɔːnfiːldz rʌn |
ənd aɪ həv siːn ðaɪ ruːd ən(d) lʌsti ɡeɪl
meɪk ʃɪps ʃəʊ hɑːf ðeə beliz tə
ðə sʌn | ðɑʊ nə(ʊ)ɪst ðə weɪ tə teɪm ðə waɪldɪst laɪf |ðɑʊ nə(ʊ)ɪst ðə weɪ tə ben(d) ðə ɡreɪt ən(d) prɑʊd |
aɪ θɪŋk əv ðæt ɑːmɑːdə huːz pʌft seɪlz | ɡriːdi ən(d) lɑːdʒ | keɪm swɒlə(ʊ)ɪŋ evri klɑʊd |
bət aɪ həv siːn ðə si: bɔɪ | jʌŋ ən(d) drɑʊnd |laɪɪŋ ɒn ʃɔːr ən(d) baɪ ðaɪ kru:əl hænd |ə siːwiːd bɪəd wəz ɒn ɪz tendə tʃɪn
| hɪz hevn blu: aɪz wə fɪld wɪð kɒmən sænd |
ənd jet | fər ɔːl | aɪ jɜːn fə ðiː əɡen |
tə seɪl wʌns mɔːr əpɒn ðaɪ fɪkl̩ flʌd | aɪl hɪə ðaɪ weɪvz wɒʃ ʌndə maɪ deθbed | ðaɪ sɔːlt ɪz lɒdʒd fərevər ɪn maɪ blʌd