The Stormy Winds Do Blow

The Stormy Winds Do Blow

Traditional - Lyrics from The Music of the Waters, by Laura Smith


One Friday morn when we set sail,
Not very far from land,
We there did espy a fair pretty maid
With a comb and a glass in her hand, her hand, her hand,
With a comb and a glass in her hand.

While the raging seas did roar,
And the stormy winds did blow,
While we jolly sailor-boys were up unto the top,
And the land-lubbers lying down below, below, below,
And the land-lubbers lying down below.


Then up starts the capt'n of our gallant ship,
And a brave young man was he;
`I've a wife and child in fair Bristol town,
But a widow I fear she will be.'

Then up starts the mate of our gallant ship,
And a bold young man was he;
`Oh, I have a wife in fair Portsmouth town,
But a widow I fear she will be,'

Then up starts the cook of our gallant ship,
And a gruff old soul was he;
`Oh, I have a wife in Plymouth town,
But a widow I fear she will be.'

And then up spoke the little cabin-boy,
And a pretty little boy was he;
`Oh, I am more grieved for my daddy and my mammy,
Than you for your wives all three.'

Then three times round went our gallant ship,
And three times round went she;
For the want of a life-boat they all went down,
And she sank to the bottom of the sea.