Andrew Cherry (1762–1812)

LOUD roared the dreadful thunder,

The rain a deluge showers,

The clouds were rent asunder

By lightning’s vivid powers,

The night both drear and dark,

Our poor deluded bark

Till next day there she lay

In the Bay of Biscay, O!

Now dashed upon the billow,

Our opening timbers creak,

Each fears a watery pillow,

None stops the dreadful leak!

To cling to slippery shrouds,

Each breathless seaman crowds,

As she lay till next day

In the Bay of Biscay, O!

At length, the wished-for morrow

Broke through the hazy sky,

Absorbed in silent sorrow,

Each heaved a bitter sigh;

The dismal wreck to view,

Struck horror to the crew,

As she lay, on that day,

In the Bay of Biscay, O!

Her yielding timbers sever,

Her pitchy seams are rent,

When Heaven, all-bounteous ever,

Its boundless mercy sent.

A sail in sight appears;

We hail her with three cheers!

Now we sail, with the gale,

From the Bay of Biscay, O!