Shipwreck'd sailor/Shipwreck'd sailor

THE SHIPWRECKED SAILOR.

WE loos’d from the downs, out of fair London town,
and then we had pleasant fine weather,
For two days or three we had a fine sea,
and our good ship we wrought with great pleasure.
There rose a great fog and our vessel did log,
you scarce could discern her mizen,
But to our surprise the storm did arise,
and the billows did foam thro’ the ocean.

As we passed by Wales, under close reef’d top sails,
and the point of land kept under,
The hail wind and sleet, with lightning did meet,
with tremendous loud claps of thunder
All things we made fast to stand the sad blast,
the pilot stood close by the helm,
Captain, pilot, and mate, on their stations did wait,
but still the proud waves they were swelling.

To the isle of man our course we did stand,
and the wind from the south east was blowing,
Then on the spring tide our vessel did ride,
and all the whole time it was snowing.
The gale did increase and then you may guess,
what was our most sad situation,
Death did appear when that we drew near
to the coast of the Irish nation.

The hail and frost on the mountains were tost
and the snow lay in Callaghanary,
And round Morne shore the billows did roar,
from Strangford to sweet Portaferry.
To the bar of Dundrum this vessel did come,
no hand at their post was neglecting,
Captain, pilot, and mate, the truth to relate,
but they could not prevent her from sinking.

For, O! the sad cries that went to the skies,
when our good ship split asunder,
Our main mast so tall overboard did fall,
and some of our good men fell under.
Bur soon the proud waves did beat her to staves,
her name was the Middlesex Flora,
Away they did sweep our men to the deep,
which greatly increases my sorrow.

Just I and no more, escap’d to the shore,
where the billows were roaring like thunder,
I am one alive out of twenty five,
and this is a very great wonder.
But thanks be to he who ruleth the sea,
can save in the middle of dangers,
I’m wounded and bruis'd but very well us'd,
though here in the middle of strangers.

Our loading was fine both brandy and wine,
and every thing costly and bonny,
Hyson and green tea, coffee and bohea,
and fine silk from sweet Barcelona,
With rich merchant store from the extending shore,
were brought thro' great tempest and dangers.
Along the shore side on waves they did ride,
were promiscuously gather’d by strangers.

Our Captain James Bell, likewise John Clemell,
and our foremast-man was James Corrau,
Our boatswain Will Weir, and James & John Greer,
and our pilot was James M^cMurray,
One Robert Store, and Richard Balfour,
our mate he was young Thomas Taylor,
One Henry Mead and Archibald Kincaid,
with William Campbell that famous young sailor.

With a few swivel guns, and three hundred tons,
was the burden our good ship did carry,
Our crew twenty five as brave men as e'er alive,
and made up of young men so merry;
But alas! now no more will they come to our shore,
to visit the girls so pretty,
Oar good ship was bound to Belfast's fair town,
and belonged to fair London city.