Far, Far at Sea

'Twas night, when the bell had struck twelve.
And poor Susan was laid on her pillow,
In her ear whisper'd some fleeting elf—
"Your love now lies toss'd on a billow,
Far, far at Sea."

All was dark, when she woke out of breath,
Not an object her fears could discover;
All was still as the silence of death,
Save fancy, which painted her lover
Far, far at Sea.

So she whisper'd a pray'r — clos'd her eyes;
But the phantom still haunted her pillow;
While in terrors she echo'd his cries,
As struggling he sunk in a billow,
Far, far at Sea.

Songs and Ballads of the Maine Lumberjacks, Gray, 1924