1

Come all you brisk young sailors bold
That plough the raging main,
A tragedy I will unfold
In story sad and plain.
From my true love 'twas pressed was I
The gallant ship to steer
To Indies west,—each heart beat high
With confidence and cheer.

2

A year was gone, and home at last,
We turn'd with swelling sail,
When—'ere the Scilly over-passed
There broke on us a gale.
The boatswain up aloft did go.
He went aloft so high.
More angry did the ocean grow,
More menacing the sky.

3

To make the stripe in vain we tried
The Scilly rocks to clear,
The thunder of the furious tide
Was filling every ear.
There came a sharp and sudden shock,—
Each thought of wife and home!
The gallant ship was on a rock,
And swept with wave and foam.

4

Of eighty seamen 'prised the crew,
But one did reach the shore,
The gallant vessel, good and true,
Was shattered aft and fore.
The news to Plymouth swift did fly,
That our good ship was gone;
And wet with tears was many an eye,
And many a widow lone.

5

And when I came to Plymouth sound
Alive, of eighty dead,
My pretty love, then false I found
And to a landsman wed.
O gentles all that live on land
Be-think the boys at sea,
Lo! here I stand with cap in hand,
And crave your charity.