“The tide of ebb it was not done,
     But fiercely to the west did run;
     Which put us all in terrible fear,
     Because there was not room for to veer. 
     The wind and weather increased sore,
     And drove ten sail of us on shore.

     “Ashore went the ‘Northumberland,’
     The ‘Harwich,’ and the ‘Cumberland,’
     The ‘Lion’ and the ‘Warwick’ too;
     But the ‘Elizabeth’ had the most to rue—­
     She came stem on—­her fore-foot broke,
     And she sunk the ‘Gloucester’ at one stroke.

     “But now remains what is worse to tell,
     The greatest ships had the greatest knell;
     The brave ‘C’ronation’ and all her men
     Was lost and drowned every one,
     Except the mate and eighteen more
     What in the longboat com’d ashore.

     “And thus they lost their precious lives;
     But the greatest loss was to their wives,
     Who, with their children left on shore,
     Their husbands’ watery death deplore,
     And wept their loss with many tears—­
     (But grief endureth not for years).

     “Now you who’ve a mind to go to sea,
     Pray take a useful hint from me,
     And live at home, and be content
     With what kind Providence has sent;
     For they were punish’d for their misdeeds,
     In grumbling when they had no needs.

     “Now God preserve our noble Queen,
     Likewise her Ministers serene;
     And may they ever steer a course
     To make things better ’stead of worse,
     And England’s flag triumphant fly,
     The dread of hevery he-ne-my.”

“You call dat singing!  Stop now!  I sing a song you nebber hear in all your life,” cried Opposition Bill, tuning his fiddle.

“And never wish to hear again, most likely,” replied Dick.  “Out with it, Bill; your face shines beautifully this morning.”

“I take de shine out of you, Massa Dick; now you listen: 

     “Now your fader is asleep, maid, listen unto me;
     Will you follow in my trail to Ken-tuck-y? 
     For cross de Alleghany to-morrow I must go,
     To chase de bounding deer on’de O-hi-o.

     “And will you lub me truly, and kind to me will be,
     If I quit my fader’s roof for Ken-tuck-y? 
     And will you nebber leave me, if I consent to go
     To your shanty by de stream of de O-hi-o?

     “Her fader’s not asleep, and he will not agree,
     Dat you take away his dater to Ken-tuck-y. 
     So alone by yourself, good hunter, you must go,
     Where the Ingin’s rifle cracks on de O-hi-o.

     “Your moder, too, is near, aldough you did not see,
     And wid her leave you nebber go to Ken-tuck-y. 
     He hab a wife already, as I do surely know,
     Who weeps for his return to de O-hi-o.

     “Man, I have dis purse of gold, half of it for ye;
     Woman, I hab ne’er a wife in Ken-tuck-y;
     Your dater is my only lub, so pridee let us go
     To where my corn is ripening on de O-hi-o.