To the Sea, to the Sea! The white gulls are crying, F Am Em Am The wind is blowing, and the white foam is flying. Am C G 2. West, west away, the round sun is falling. D F Am Grey ship, grey ship, do you hear them calling. A A D Dm R: The voices of my people that have gone before me? A A D E7 I will leave, I will leave the woods that bore me; 3. For our days are ending and our years failing. I will pass the wide waters lonely sailing. 4. Long are the waves on the Last Shore falling, Sweet are the voices in the Lost Isle calling, R: In Eressea, in Elvenhome that no man can discover, Where the leaves fall not: land of my people for ever!'