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Banks of Newfoundland (alt version)

Banks of Newfoundland (alt version) published on

Oh you may bless your happy lot,
That lies secure on shore
Free from the billows and the blasts
That round poor sailors blow

It’s little you know the danger
That we were forced to stand
For fourteen days and fourteen nights
On the banks of Newfoundland

Our good ship never crossed before
The stormy western sea
The raging waves came tumbling down
Soon broke her into sticks

She being of green unseasoned wood
It’s little could she stand
Of the hurricane that met us
On the banks of Newfoundland

We fasted for three days and nights
When our supplies ran out
And on the morning of the fourth
We casted lots about

The lot fell on the captain’s son
And you may understand
We spared him for another day
On the banks of Newfoundland

No sails appeared, reluctantly
We ordered him prepared
We gave him just another hour
To offer up a prayer

But providence was always kind
Kept blood from every hand
When an English vessel came in sight
Of the Banks of Newfoundland

When we were taken off the wreck
More like ghosts than men
They fed us and they used us well
And brought us home again

But four of our brave Irish boys
Ne’er saw their native land
And the captain lost his legs to frost
On the banks of Newfoundland

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