THE FLYING DUTCHMAN

Twas on a stormy day, far southward of the Cape,
When from a (high) Nor-wester we had just made our escape,
Like an infant in its cradle, each breeze was hushed to sleep,
And peacefully we sailed along the bosom of the deep.
At length the helmsman gave a shout of terror and of fear,
As if he just had gazed upon some sudden danger near;
We looked all around the ocean, and just upon our lee,
We saw the Flying Dutchman come bounding thro' the sea.

Take in your flowing canvas, lads, our watchful master cried,
To us and our ship's company great peril doth betide:
The billows cresting with foam all angry doth appear.
The wind springs up a hurricane now Vanderdecken's near.
He comes, the Flying Dutchman! comes light o'er the lofty spray,
Preceded by the tempest dire, he makes for Table Bay,
With bird-like speed he's borne before the wind and howling blast,
But ere he can cast anchor there, the Bay, alas! is pass'd.

He scuds along too rapidly to mark his eagle's flight,
And lightning-like the Dutchman's helm full soon is out of sight,
The crews of ships far distant, now shudder at the breeze,
That bears the Flying Dutchman in fury o'er the seas.
Then mourn for Vanderdecken, for terrible's his doom,
The ocean round the stormy Cape it is his living tomb;
There the Dutchman beats about for ever night and day,
And tries in vain his oath to keep by entering Table Bay.


London: H. Such, Machine Printer and Publisher

from the Bodleian Ballads Collection, which has three copies, all more-or-less the same except for a word her or there. One copy had "When from a (high) Nor-wester" - I added the (high) in parentheses above, but it is not in the version I transcribed from.