No more a Watch to stand, Old Sailor You are outward bound on an ebbing tide. Eight Bells has rung, and last Watch done. Now a new berth waits you on the other side. Your Ship is anchored in God's Harbor. And your Shipmates, sailors of the Lord. Are Mustered on the deck to greet you. And pipe you as you come aboard. Her boilers with full head of steam. Cargo stowed and Galley stored. Just waiting to get underway. When the last Hand comes aboard. Look sharp, that Hand is you, Old Sailor. And you'll be sailing out on Heavenly Seas. May the wind be ever at your back. Fair weather, and God speed!