( 5 )
The top-ſail-yards point to the wind boys,
ſee all clear to reef each courſe;
Let the fore-ſheet go, don’t mind boys,
tho’ the weather ſhould be worſe;
Fore and aft the ſpritſail-yard get,
reef the mizen, ſee all clear,
Hands up, each preventure brace ſet,
man the fore-yard; chear, lads, cheer.
Now the dreadful thunder’s roaring,
peals on peals contending claſh,
On our heads fierce rain falls pouring,
in our eyes blue light’ning flaſh;
One wide water all around us,
all above but one black ſky!
Different deaths at once ſurround us,
hark! what means yon dreadful cry?
The foremaſt’s gone, cries ev’ry tongue out,
o’er the lee, twelve foot ’bove deck!
A leak beneath the cheſtree’s ſprung out,
call all hands to clear the wreck,
Quick the lanniards cut to pieces,
come my hearts be ſtout and bold,
Plumb the well, the leak increaſes,
four feet water’s in the hold.
While o’er the ſhip the wild waves beating,
we for wives and children mourn,
Alas! from them there’s no retreating,
alas! to them there’s no return!
