Four excellent new songs (1)/Captain Bell's Unhappy Voyage

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Bell’s unhappy Voyage.

WE loosed 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 pleasure.
There rose a fog, and our vessel did log,
You could scarce discern her mizen,
But to our surprise a storm did arise,
And the billows did foam thro’ the ocean.

As we past by Wales with close-reef sails.
And the point of land kept under,
The wind & sleet, with light’ning 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 & mate on their stations wait,
But still the proud waves were a-swelling.

To the Isle of Man our course did stand,
And the wind from the south-east blowing,
Then on the spring-tide our vessel did slide,
And all the whole time it was snowing,
The gale did increase, & then you’ll guess
What was our most sad situation,
Death did appear when that we drew near
To the coast of this Irish nation.

The hail and frost on the mountains tost,
And the snow lay on Ballaghanary,
And round Mourne shore the billows roar’d
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 could not preserve her from striking.

But O! the sad cries we sent to the skies,
Whene’er our good ship split asunder,
Our mainmast so tall overboard did fall,
And some of our good men fell under.
But 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 was roaring like thunder,
I am one left alive out of twenty-five.
And that is a very great wonder.
But thanks be to He, that rules o’er the sea,
Can save in the middle of danger,
I’m wounded and bruis’d, but very well us’d,
Though here in the middle of strangers.

Our loading was fine brandy and wine,
And every thing costly and bonny,
Hyson and green tea, coffee and bohea,
And fine silks from sweet Barcelona.
With rich merchant store from foreign shore
Were brought thro' tempest and danger,
Along the shore side on the waves did ride,
Were promiscuously gather’d by strangers.

Our capt. James Bell, also John Clemell,
And our fore-mast man was John Corran;
Our boats. Will. Wier, James & J. Grier,
And our pilot was Charles M^cMurray;
One Robert Store, and Richard Balfour,
Our mate he was young Thomas Taylor,
One Henry Mead and Archibald Kinkade,
With William Campbell a famous sailor.

With a few swivel guns, and 300 tuns,
Was the burthen our good ship did carry,
Our crew twenty-five, as brave’s ever liv’d,
And made up of young seamen so merry.
But alas! no more will they come on shre,
To visit the girls so pretty.
Our good ship was bound to Belfast town,
And belonged to sweet London city.