Then they unfurl’d the sailcloths—
the stout sails, strained and tight—
And twenty miles they sailèd,
or ever it was night,
With a good wind to help them
down stream, toward the sea.
Their steadfast toil was later
those brave ones’ woe to be.
Then they unfurl’d the sailcloths—
the stout sails, strained and tight—
And twenty miles they sailèd,
or ever it was night,
With a good wind to help them
down stream, toward the sea.
Their steadfast toil was later
those brave ones’ woe to be.