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The Distressed SAILOR on the Rocks of SCILLY.
COME, all you jolly sailors bold,
That plough the raging main,
And listen to my tragedy
Whilst I relate the same.
I parted with my wedded wife,
Whom I did still adore.
To the seas we were commanded,
Where lofty billows roar,
To the East Indies we were bound,
Our course we then did steer,
And along I still thought on,
My lovely Molly dear.
Sometimes on deck, sometimes aloft,
Sometime I am below,
But Molly she's still in my eye,
Fond lore commands me so,
She's charming, beautiful and fair,
She’s all my souls delight,
The brightest day appears to me,
Like to the shade of night,
By myself alone I sigh and moan,
While others sport and play.
Were Molly she along with me,
It would be always day.
My very heart’s lodg'd in her breast,
Which does increase my pain.
Both night and day I do think still,
