Most sad was my misfortune in the year of sixty-three
When I shipped on board the fishing there, caught on a drunken spree
I shipped on board the "Eastern Light" as you might understand
For to go out on the salty sea to the Banks of Newfoundland

Mike Cloure being our skipper's name, a hero stout and bold
We had twelve other souls on board besides myself all told
We hoist up all our canvas when left Gloucester port
And the girls they wove their handkerchiefs as we sailed out of port

We brought a jar of rum on board which mustered all our crew
We drank a health to the Gloucester girls in bidding them adieu
'Twas east-be-south we steered, me b'ys, the Grand Banks for to find
We being employed that our fishing gear some halibut to destroy

We ranged around those foggy banks for the space of eighteen days
We boarded a couple of Frenchmen but no brandy could we raise
My curse on rum, and brandy too, as I oftimes said before
Sure, I might have lived the sober life, I might be still on shore

It's early every morning our cooks all up and bawls
Get up and eat your breakfast, b'ys, and then go haul your trawls
We scarce get time to light our pipes when our dories go
We've got to make three sets a day, let the wind blow high or low

And if you lose a mooring, a buoy-line, or a knife
Indeed you will be charged with it and you might bet your life
Andif you come to stand night watch be sure and stand a bet
And if anything is missin' there you'll find it on your check

On the eighteenth of October I hear our captain shout
Come hoist aboard your dories, b'ys, and break your anchors out
Our provisions are getting kind of scarce, we can no longer stay
So give her great big mainsail, b'ys, and get her underway.

Next day our anchor's on our bow, our ship is homeward bound
And when we next reach Gloucester port, we'll hand the glasses round
We'll go down to Johnny The Lover's and 'tis there we'll spend one night
And we'll drink a health to the Gloucester girls, likewise to the "Eastern Light."