Stan Rogers

Cape St.Mary's

Stan Rogers


Take me back to my western boat 
Let me fish off Cape St. Mary's 
Where the hog-down sail 
And the Fog horns wail 
With my friends the Browns and the Clearys 
Let me fish off Cape St. Mary's 

Let me feel my dory lift 
To the broad Atlantic combers 
Where the tide rip swirls 
And the wild ducks whirl 
And old Neptune calls the numbers. 
'Neath the wild Atlantic combers 

Let me sail up Golden Bay 
With my oilskins all a-streaming 
From the thunder squalls when I hauled my trawls. 
And my old Cape Ann a-gleaming 
With my oilskins all a-streaming. 

And let me view that ragged shore 
With the beaches all a-glisten 
With the caplin spawn 
Where from dusk till dawn 
You bait your trawn, and you listen 
To the undertow a-hissin'. 

And when I reach that last big shoal 
Where the groundswells break asunder, 
Where the wild sands roll to the surge's toll 
Let me be a man and take it 
When my dory fails to make it. 

Oh take me back to that snug green cove 
Where the seas roll up their thunder 
There let me rest 
In the Earth's cool breast 
Where the stars shine out their wonder 
And the seas roll up their thunder.