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When we our loading had receiv'd,
And were from England bound,
We little thought it was our fate,
On Scilly rocks drown.
On the rocks of Scilly we were cast,
By the tempest of the main.
Of all our good ships jolly crew,
But four could reach the land.
We had not sail’d a day but seven,
When the storm began to rise,
The swelling seas ran mountains high,
And dismal were the skies,
Aloft, aloft, our boatswain cries,
Each man his post observe.
And reef your sails both fore and aft,
Our ship and lives to save.
To the top then cries our Captain bold,
And he that first sees land,
For his reward he will receive,
The sum of fifty pound.
To the top then went our boatswain’s mate,
To the main top so high,
He looked around on every side,
But no land he could spy,
In head of us a light he saw,
Which did our spirits cheer,
Take courage hearts of gold he cries,
Some harbours we are near.
About your ship the boatswain cries,
And of the rocks keep clear,
For in the deep we will remain,
