I remember this from a book my father had (about 60 years ago):

The boy stood on the burning deck,
He stood upon his head,
Because his arms and legs were off,
He waved his hands and said,

My name is Norval
On the Grampian hills the village smithy stands,
The smith a mighty man
Was wrecked on the pitiless Goodwin sands,

And by him sported on the green,
His little grandchild Wilhemene,

And we rushed to the signal rockets,
Lets fire them quick we cried,

And the good Abbot of Atherbrethock
Plunged headlong into the tide.

Now who will stand on either hand and guard the bridge with me,
Aboard the schooner Hesperus that sails the wintry sea,

I and two more to help me,
Will keep the foe in play,

For I'm to be Queen of May mother,
I'm to be Queen of May.