Four excellent new songs/The distressed sailor on the rocks of Scilly

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,
We ne'er shall meet again.
When we our loading had receiv'd,
And were from England bound,
We little thought it was our fate,
On Scilly rocks drown.
On the rocks of Scilly we were cast,
By the tempest of the main.
Of all our good ships jolly crew,
But four could reach the land.
We had not sail’d a day but seven,
When the storm began to rise,
The swelling seas ran mountains high,
And dismal were the skies,
Aloft, aloft, our boatswain cries,
Each man his post observe.
And reef your sails both fore and aft,
Our ship and lives to save.
To the top then cries our Captain bold,
And he that first sees land,
For his reward he will receive,
The sum of fifty pound.
To the top then went our boatswain’s mate,
To the main top so high,
He looked around on every side,
But no land he could spy,
In head of us a light he saw,
Which did our spirits cheer,
Take courage hearts of gold he cries,
Some harbours we are near.
About your ship the boatswain cries,
And of the rocks keep clear,
For in the deep we will remain,
Until the day appear.
Sail on, sail on our Captain cries
We’re right before the wind,
For by the light that we have seen,
We are not far from land,
But as we sail’d before the wind,
And thought all dangers past,
On the rocks of Scilly, we poor souls,
That fatal night was cast,
The first stroks that our ship did get,
Our captain he did cry.
The Lord have mercy our souls,
For in the deep we die,
Of eighty jolly sailors bold,
But four could reach the shore,
Our gallant ship in pieces split,
And never was seen more.
But when the news to Plymouth came,
Our gallant ship was lost.
This caused many sailors fear,
The danger of that coast
Now Molly dear she may lament,
For the loss of her sweetheart
By the tempest of that stormy wind.
The deep their love did part,
When Molly heard the fatal news,
Her tender heart did break,
And like a faithful lover she,
Died for her lover’s sake.