Standard (EADGBE)

Break, break, break,

On your cold grey stones, oh Sea

And I wish that my tongue could utter

The thoughts that arise in me.

Same chords throughout.

Oh well for the fisherman's boy,

As he shouts with his sister at play

Oh well for the sailor lad,

As he sings in his boat on the bay

And the stately ships go on

To their haven under the hill:

But oh for the touch of a vanished hand,

And the sound of a voice that is still

Break, break, break,

At the foot of thy crags, oh Sea

But the tender grace of a day that is dead

Will never come back to me.