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Come all ye jolly fishermen, come and listen to my song,
Come and hear about a banker from Burgeo do belong.
Her name was the Glenora, Tom Warren in command;
She was fitted from the Jersey room from Burgeo, Newfoundland.
She carried a crew of six brave men and dories she had two -
. . . . .
They all belonged to Burgeo, each all of (whom) you know well
And they damn nigh met a dirty end in one heavy northeast gale.
On the sixteenth day of April the Nora she set sail -
Bound for the Banks of Scotland to set another trawl;
The wind sprang up from the east-north-east and around the head did roar -
As God should have it on that day, Tom Warren he stayed on shore.
And when they had their trawl set, they shaped her for the land,
The wind sprang up quite suddenly but nothing could she stand;
They tried to beat her in Cannoire when her double reefs gave way
And going into Galliboy 'twas aloft and bear away.
And on that following Friday morn the wind it did die out -
Tom Warren got in his motor boat the Nora to find out.
With Friday morning passed away and evening coming on
The Glenora sailed into Muddy Hole with double-reef foresail gone.
And when they sailed into Muddy Hole, Captain Tom was at the wheel,
'Let run your jib,' he loudly roared, 'your jumbo too, as well;
And then let run your foresail while she is shooting slow -
And then cocks-bill your anchor all ready to let go.'
And when the anchor it runned down, sure it was nearly dark -
Captain Tom gave orders what must be done before it did come dark:
'And now, my boys, do not forget, be sure and set the pump.'
'Twas Skipper Tom he sidled aft and crawled into his bunk.
And then they cleared for sea again if the Nora she will stand -
They carried the same skipper, Tom Warren all in command.
At four o'clock that evening the Nora hove in sight,
At six o'clock that evening they anchored her all right.
And now my song is to an end, to you I'll sing no more -
Tom Warren is off to the western ground from Scotland to Cannoire.
And I swear a man like Skipper Tom his head is rather large;
And between the sense and the foolishness, I don't think he should have charge.