Land Ho

Be still, Dear Son of Valor,
        Now is not the time to grieve.
Set your ears upon the Hammer,
        That strikes the bell of parting eve.
 

From its heart, a tune shall spring.
         Not a song for those that roam.
A dying note so shall it ring,
        To fallen Son returning home.
 

Be Still, Dear Son of Valor,
         Let that note still be a guide.
To wayward soul and lonesome Traveler,
         A resting place beyond the tide.
 

Cast your burdens to the sea,
         Feel these fevered pains no more.
Leave your weary sorrows be,
          And set your eyes upon the shore.