| They sailed away in that gallant bark
|
| Roy Neal and his fair young bride
|
| They had ventured all on that bounding shipp
|
| That danced on the silv’ry tide
|
| And his heart was young and his spirit light
|
| As he kissed her tears away
|
| And they watched the shore retreat from sight
|
| Of their own sweet Dublin bay
|
| Three days they sailed when the storm arose
|
| And the lightning swept the deep
|
| And the thunderclaps broke the short repose
|
| Of the weary sailors' sleep
|
| Roy Neal, he clasped his weeping bride
|
| And he kissed her tears away
|
| «Oh, love, 'twas a fearful hour,» he cried
|
| «When we left sweet Dublin Bay.»
|
| On the crowded deck of that doomed ship
|
| Some fell into deep despair
|
| And some more calm with a holier heart
|
| Sought the god of the storm in prayer
|
| «She has struck a rock,» the sailors cried
|
| In a breath of wild dismay
|
| And the ship went down with the fair young bride
|
| That left from Dublin bay
|
| They sailed away on that gallant bark
|
| Roy Neal and his gay young bride
|
| They had ventured all on that bounding shipp
|
| That danced on the silvery tide
|
| And his heart was young and his spirit light
|
| As he kissed her tears away
|
| And they watched the shore retreat from sight
|
| Of their own sweet Dublin bay |