From Bodleian Library Broadside Ballads, Harding B 17(261a):


ROCKS OF SCILLY
Printed by T. Birt, wholesale and retail,
10, Great St. Andrew-Street, Seven Dials, London.

1. Come all you brisk young sailors bold, that plough the raging main:
Come listen to my tragedy and I'll relate the same.
'Tis prest I was from my true love. She is the girl I do adore,
And sent I was to the raging sea, where foaming billows roar.

2. To the East Indies we were bound, our gallant ship to steer,
And all the way that we sail'd out, I thought of my Polly dear.
We had not gone a great way out before a storm did rise.
The raging seas ran mountains high and so dismal was the sky.

3. Sometimes alone with grief I moan while others are sporting on.
Had I but my Polly here, I ne'er would make my moan.
Sometimes on deck, sometimes aloft, and oftentimes below,
The thoughts of Polly run in my head tho' the stormy winds do blow.

4. Our captain, being a valiant man, upon the deck did stand.
"A full reward of fifty pounds to the first that doth see land."
Our boatswain up aloft did go on the maintop so high.
He look'd all round on every side, neither light nor land espy'd.

5. He being foremast of the ship, a light he chanced to spy.
"Bear off, my lads, before the wind. Some harbour we are nigh.
"Bear off, my lads, before the wind. The Scilly Rocks are near.
On the ocean wide we must abide till day-light doth appear."

6. The very first time our gallant ship struck, so loud the captain cried,
"The Lord have mercy on us all! We in the deep shall die."
Out of eighty seamen bold, 'twas four got on shore.
Our gallant ship to pieces went, and never was seen more.

7. O when this news to Plymouth went, our gallant ship was lost,
Caused many a fine young sailor bold then to lament his cause.
'Tis Polly, love, you must lament, for the loss of your sweetheart.
'Tis the raging seas, the stormy winds, caused you and me to part.