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Come all ye jolly seamen bold that to the seas belong,
It wants your whole attention to listen to my song;
If I'm going wrong then stop my hand, for you will be obliged,
I mean to state what did take place the year of '65.
'Twas in the month of April, Sunday Morning, at half past four,
An accident on board of her while Neptune loud did roar;
That morning being our thirty-first, tossed on the raging main,
One single pound of bread a day each man for to sustain.
We were running all night under double reefed tops, expecting to make the land,
Each eye to sea felt eagerly its morning's first-sighted land,
When old Harkins cries, "Away, me boys, neither light nor land in view,
But the daylight is approaching, and for it we will heave to."
Now, when the daylight cleared away the land we did espy,
And Harkins cries, "Make sail, me boys, to get her home we'll try."
Two youths to loose out our forecourse, his orders did obey,
And one of them poor fellows fell from our fore-yard that day.
And 'bout that time, eight-and-a-half she was taking from the reel,
When instantly old helmsman to starboard hove the wheel;
Right nimbly her mainyards spun, a boat was lowered by hand,
Eight minutes from the time it fell 'twas launched and nobly manned.
Like hardy for his life to save, they used both strength and skill,
With breakers white all 'round them, their boat began to fill;
When mention and bold combined to row her with all their might,
Poor fellow to his maker flew, he's vanished from their sight.
His time was come, his glass was run, to his maker he did flee,
Let's hope the great Almighty did receive him thankfully;
Now there was many sad and aching hearts on board of us that day,
When Harkins gave the order our main yard to square away.
With desolate minds, leaving behind the boy we all loved dear,
In the ocean deep to take his sleep about four mile from Cape Spear;
And when we hauled into the dock his aged father he was there,
Wringing of his aged hands and tearing of his hair.
He cries out broken-hearted, "Boys, where did ye lay my child?
And for his tender mother, I'm certain she'll go wild."
He cried out broken-hearted, "Boys, where did you lay my dear?"
"We left him in a watery grave about four miles from Cape Spear."
Now, parents dear, don't weep no more for the losing of a son,
And, sisters dear, I beg of you one prayer for him that's gone;
And all ye people young and old, men, women and children,
Pray that the soul of Andrew Sheehan might rest in peace. Amen.
Sung by Charles Dawe of Flatrock, NL, and sung as Bold Larkin by Mike Kent of Cape Broyle, NL, both published in MacEdward Leach And The Songs Of Atlantic Canada © 2004 Memorial University of Newfoundland Folklore and Language Archive (MUNFLA). A variant was also collected in 1952 from Ronald Hoven of Fogo, NL, by Ken Peacock and published as Bull Yorkens in Songs Of The Newfoundland Outports, Volume 3, pp.907-908, by the National Museum of Canada (1965) Crown Copyrights Reserved.
John Grace's narrative style of songwriting becomes obvious when this song is compared with a variant of another of his songs, Captain Larkins.
