1: Ye landsmen and ye landsmen bold,
'Tis little do yous know,
What we poor sailors do endure,
When the stormy winds do blow.

2: You stay on shore with your pretty girls,
Tell unto them fond tales;
But the hardest labour that ever you done,
Was to reap your own corn fields.

3: On the eighteenth day of November time,
A heavy gale came on;
The heavens above looked angry on us,
And the clouds o'ercast the sun.

4: With wind about east and be south, me boys,
And heavy showers of hail;
And the night being dark and stormy, me boys,
’Twas on a lee shore she did fale.

5: Our captain gave us orders,
And orders we must obey;
He said, “You had better get forrad, me boys,
Your foresail to lower away.

6: We tried to reef our mainsail in,
It really couldn’t be done,
It was under a three-reef foresail, me boys,
Five laugues o’er the sea she did run.

7: Once more she gently rises,
Which caused all to say:
“God bless our noble vessel, me boys,
Once more she heads the sea.”

8: About three o’clock in the morning,
We received a dreadful shock;
We fired across on her beam end,
A mile below Bellow’s rock.

9: We boarded her immediately,
A dismal sight to behold;
Three frozen seamen lashed to her pumps,
Five more in her cabin lay cold.

10: We held the tiller was over them,
And that so wondrous rare;
And the good on the did wear,
Those poor fellows you should see.

11: And now they’ve gone, God bless them,
My boys, your race is run;
A widow must weep for her husband dear,
And a mother for her darling son.