Our
end to behold that sight,
Glorious
purpose surrounds these ships
In
the vast expanse of ocean;
The
smallest drop cannot touch our lips.
Guided
by the Hand of God
Mysterious
in its dispensation
Now
caressing,
Now
striking tragedy
Into
his sublime creation,
We
hold to our mission of revelation.
What
wondrous nation will stand
Revealed
in the light we bring!
What
treasure rich and palace grand
Will
make the angels sing!
What
ancient, mythic land
Shall
know my mighty king!
For
this purpose our course will hold
Though
we face dangers ever bold.
We
sail in truth as God's instruments.
So
the stories will be told.
And
though history may lament
My
men's untimely death,
Still
to me it shall be kind,
The
one sent forth to find
The
road to destiny, so far,
The
cradle of the evening stars.
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