Old Albion Sat On A Crag Of Late. And Sang Out - "Ahoy! Ahoy! Long, Life To The Captain, Good Luck To The Mate. And This To My Sailor Boy! Come Over, Come Home, Through The Salt Sea Foam, My Sailor, My Sailor Boy. "Here'S A Crown To Be Given Away, I Ween, A Crown For My Sailor'S Head, And All For The Worth Of A Widowed Queen, And The Love Of The Noble Dead; And The Fear And Fame Of The Island'S Name Where My Boy Was Born And Bred. "Content Thee, Content Thee, Let It Alone, Thou Marked For A Choice So Rare; Though Treaties Be Treaties, Never A Throne Was Proffered For Cause As Fair. Yet Come To Me Home, Through The Salt Sea Foam, For The Greek Must Ask Elsewhere. "'Tis A Pity, My Sailor, But Who Can Tell? Many Lands They Look To Me; One Of These Might Be Wanting A Prince As Well, But That's As Hereafter May Be." She Raised Her White Head And Laughed; And She Said "That's As Hereafter May Be."