Sad and dismal is the tale I will relate to you,
About the schooner
Persia, her officers and crew,
Who sank beneath the stormy deep, in life to rise no more,
When winds and desolation swept Lake Huron's rock-bound shore.
They left Chicago on their lee, their songs they did resound,
And they so full of joy and glee as homeward they were bound.
They little thought the sound of death would meet them on their way,
And they, so full of joy and glee, should in Lake Huron lay.
The sailors' names I did not know, excepting one or two.
Down in the deep they all did go; they were a luckless crew.
Not a soul escaped to land to clear the mystery o'er;
In watery depths they all did go, upon Lake Huron's shore.
In mystery their dooms are sealed; they did collide, some day,
But that is all to be revealed upon the judgment day.
And when the angels take their stand to wake the waters blue,
And send forth the commander of the ill-starred Persia's crew.
Daniel Sullivan was their mate, a man both bold and brave,
As ever was compelled by fate to fill a sailor's grave.
He will be mourned as a friend; alas! his days are o'er.
In watery depths be now doth lie, upon Lake Huron's shore.
Oh, Dan, your many friends will mourn, your fate upon them frown;
They'll wait in vain for your return back in Oswego town.
They'll miss the bly glance of your eye, your hand they'll clasp no more;
In watery depths you now do lie, upon Lake Huron's shore.
No mother's hand was there to press that brow-distracting pain;
No gentle wife was there to kiss that cold brow o'er again.
No sister or no brother nigh, no little ones to mourn;
Down in the deep they all did go, far from their friends and home.
Around Presque Isle the seagulls scream their dismal notes along,
And that is the sad requiem of the dismal funeral song.
They skim along the water blue, and then aloft they soar,
In memory of the
Persia's crew, lost on Lake Huron's shore.