Ye mariners of Spain
  Bend strongly on your oars,
And bring my love again,
  For he lies among the Moors.
Ye galleys fairly built 
  Like castles on the sea,
Oh, great will be your guilt
  If ye bring him not to me!

The wind is blowing strong,
  The breeze will aid your oars,
O swiftly fly along,
  For he lies among the Moors! 
The fresh breeze of the sea
  Cools every cheek but mine,
O hot is its breath to me
  As I gaze upon the brine! 

Lift up, lift up your sail
  And bend upon your oars,
O lose not the fair gale,
  For he lies among the Moors! 
It is a narrow strait,
  I see the blue hills over,
Your coming I'll await,
  And thank you for my lover.
To Mary I will pray
  While ye bend upon your oars,
'Twill be a blessed day
  If ye fetch him from the Moors.