I went looking for the original broadside of the song we now call THREE SCORE AND TEN. I didn’t find it, but I found this instead: a different song (or poem) by the same author, William Delf. I found it at a website called Popular Romanticism:

Lines in Memoriam of the poor Fishermen who lost their lives at sea,
from HULL and other ports, on Tuesday, March, 6th, 1883.

In March, Eighteen Hundred and Eighty Three,
A dreadful gale swept o’er the sea
And dealt destruction far and near,
And many took from their loved ones dear.

The smacks from the fishing ports went out,
The crews with happy hearts, no doubt,
And left all those they lov’d behind,
Their bread upon the sea to find.

But alas, that fearful gale did come
And sealed many a poor fisher’s doom,
And make the hearts of many weep,
When a comrade was swept into the deep.

Along the coast, and at every port,
Where vessels belong of the fishing sort,
Heart rending scenes does there prevail,
For loved ones perished in the gale.

At Hull the shock is greatly felt,
With the vessels it has most severely dealt,
Crews were lost on every hand,
With vessels no more to reach the land.

The Speedwell, a cutter when she made the port
Her flag half-mast, her crew were short,
Her much respected captain gone,
A man respected by every one.

The smacks came in with flags half-mast,
The signal some had seen their last,
Bringing the dreadful news on shore,
To loved ones they will see no more.

Wives and children are left behind
To mourn the loss of those so kind.
The winner of their bread is gone,
Into a land to us unknown.

Fathers and mothers also do weep
For sons who have perished in the deep,
Their loving voice no more to hear,
Nor yet to see their face so dear.

Spars and canvas got torn away
By wind and wave that took the sway,
And cast a gloom o’er many a heart,
When spars and canvas got torn apart.

But spars and canvas cannot compare
With life which to us all is dear.
Not all the property untold
Can purchase back one single soul.

But when so far away from land,
No Lifeboat is at their command,
There at the mercy of the wave,
Trusting in who alone can save.

Filey is a little fishing spot,
And it its share of grief has got.
Widows and children do there lament
Of the dreadful gale that’s sent.

Now, kind friends, your aid bestow
To help the widows here below
And their dear children left behind,
A loving father no more to find.

O God, thou sees the widow and children dear.
In love, their sorrowing hearts do cheer.
Comfort and cheer them in distress.
Provide for the child that’s fatherless.

Send comfort to every bereaved home.
Be thou their help in time to come,
And may we never hear or see
In Hull such direful calamity.

Composed & Sold in aid of the Widows & Orphans by Wm. Delf, Fisherman.