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![]() One Friday morn when we set sail, Not very far from land, We there did espy a fair pretty mermaid With a comb and a glass in her hand, her hand, her hand, With a comb and a glass in her hand. While the raging seas did roar, And the stormy winds did blow, While we jolly sailor-boys were up unto the top, And the land-lubbers lying down below, below, below, And the land-lubbers lying down below. Then up starts the capt'n of our gallant ship, And a brave young man was he; `I've a wife and child in fair Bristol town, But a widow I fear she will be.' Then up starts the mate of our gallant ship, And a bold young man was he; `Oh, I have a wife in fair Portsmouth town, But a widow I fear she will be,' Then up starts the cook of our gallant ship, And a gruff old soul was he; `Oh, I have a wife in Plymouth town, But a widow I fear she will be.' And then up spoke the little cabin-boy, And a pretty little boy was he; `Oh, I am more grieved for my daddy and my mammy, Than you for your wives all three.' Then three times round went our gallant ship, And three times round went she; For the want of a life-boat they all went down, And she sank to the bottom of the sea.
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