Pretty Nancy of Leaden-hall Street, Was courted by Billy on board of our fleet, And when that these stormy winds begin for to blow, My heart is oppressed with sorrow and woe.
Pretty Nancy of London my own heart's delight, This is a kind letter I'm going to write; This to acquaint you what we undergo, Upon the salt seas where the hurricanes blow.
A ship in distress is a most terrible sight, Like an army of soldiers just going to fight, A soldier can shun his most terrible doom, Whilst a sailor submits to a watery tomb.
It was late in the evening before it was dark, Our honoured Captain he shew'd us the mark, Of something that he could discern in the skies, Of a terrible storm that was going to rise.
It roared like thunder, it toss'd us about, While Rany a bold sailor, both gallant and stout, Stood trembling and quacking 'twixt hope & despair, One moment below and one moment in the air.
Early in the morning before it was day, Our honoured Captain then to us did say, Be not afraid, brave boys, but be of good cheer, While we have got sea-room we've nought for to fear.
But when the wind blows it makes my heart to ake, It makes all our cabins and rooms for to shake; But what can I do so far from the shore? I think on my true love, what can I do more.
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