The ships to the westward, by night and by day,
In storm and in sunshine go forth on their way,
The big ships and little ships, swift ships and slow ...
And Fastnet — old Fastnet — he watches 'em go.
Hull down to the westward they vanish afar,
Like the waft of a wing or the flash of a star,
A feather of smoke on the rim of the sky ...
And Fastnet — old Fastnet — he waves 'em good-bye.
Strange stars will behold them, strange harbours will know,
Strange lights for their guiding will beacon and glow,
And they'll maybe remember and maybe forget
That Fastnet — old Fastnet — he's waiting there yet.
A-waiting the day, be it distant or soon,
When the ships from the westward, by night or by noon,
In storm or in sunshine rejoicing will come ...
And Fastnet — old Fastnet — he'll welcome them home!