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Oh, you western ocean laborers, I would have you all beware,
When you go on board of a packet ship, no dungaree jumpers wear;
But have a big monkey jacket always at your command,
For there blow some cold nor'westers on the Banks of Newfoundland.
We had one Lynch from Ballinahinch, Jimmy Murphy and Mike Moore,
It was in the winter of sixty-two; those poor boys suffered sore;
For they pawned their clothes in Liverpool or sold them out of hand,
[or shipped as they did stand]
Never dreaming of cold nor'westers on the Banks of Newfoundland.
So we'll rub her down and scrub her down with holystone and sand,
And we'll bid adieu to the Virgin Rocks and the Banks of Newfoundland.
We had one female passenger, Bridget Reilly was her name,
To her I promised marriage, on me she had a claim;
She tore up her flannel petticoats to make mittens for us hands,
For she could not see us poor boys freeze on the Banks of Newfoundland.
The mate jumps up on the capstan head and loudly he did roar:
Come and rattle her in, me lively lads; we're bound for America's shore;
Then lay aloft and shake her out and give her all she'll stand,
And we'll bid adieu to the Virgin Rocks and the Banks of Newfoundland.
So now it's reef and reef, me boys, with the canvas frozen hard,
And it's haul and pass, every mother's son, on a ninety-foot tops'l yard;
Never mind your boots and breeches, but haul or you'll be damned,
For there blow some cold nor'westers on the Banks of Newfoundland.
And now we're off Sandy Hook, me boys, and the land's all covered in snow,
The tugboat will take our hawser, into New York we will tow;
And on the docks, come down in flocks, the pretty girls will stand,
Saying, It's warmer with me than it is at sea on the Banks of
Newfoundland.
Posted at the Mudcat Café - Digital Tradition #407, Song ID 5827.
