One afternoon when the sun was hot
I takes a snooze on the quay;
An' a kink in my neck I must ha' got,
For a nightmare comes to me-
A horrible nightmare, too, my lad,
As never goes right away,
For I sometimes thinks as I really had
A vision o' Judgment Day.

Ay, the Lord was judgin' the world at last,-
But I had been left to sleep
Till all o' a sudden I spied aghast
The dead come out o' the deep!
Thousan's an' thousan's o' poor drowned men
An' women an' children too,
Out o' the deep they rose again
As the Angel's Trumpet blew.

An' the Lord God judged them one by one,
But my sight was blinded sore,
An' I hid my face till the trials was done
An' the Trumpet blew once more.
An' then I was made to look, an' lo!
I heared a loud voice say:
'Behold the Ships which the Lord doth know
Was wickedly cast away!'

An' hundreds o' ships rose out o' the sea,
An' high on the waves they rode-
Ships as was strange as strange could be,
An' ships as ye might ha' knowed.
Ho, some was ancient, an' some was new,
But all had been murdered sure. . . .
Now I'm tellin' ye, lad-an' it's terrible true-
The souls o* such ships endure.

All ships ha' souls; but the souls don't stay
When the days o' the ships is done-
Excep' in the ships as is thrown away:
Oh, there do the souls live on!
They live for to witness afore the Lord-
Be it ever so long a time-
They live to behold His just reward
To them as got rich by crime.

The Lord looked down on a wood-built barque-
A beautiful craft was she!-
An' the Lord cried loud-an' the day grew dark-
'My Ship, who hath murdered thee?'
Then the soul o' the ship spoke up an' cried,
'O Lord, when the wind was fair
I sank in the sea; an' my captain lied,
But the man as got rich stands there!'

An' the Lord looked hard in a man's white face
Till out o' the trimblin' lips
The words come dribblin': 'O God o' Grace,
The fault, the blame was the ship's.'
An' then, afore ye could wink an eye
(I told ye that ships ha' souls!),
The barque heels over, wi' one great cry,
Exposin' the auger holes!

An' the Trumpet roared like a winter gale,
An' the soul o' the ship went free. . . .
But they put the man's on the ship to sail
Wi' Fear on a shoreless sea-
Wi' nothin' but Fear as the ship would sink
An' Life which had growed most dear;
Wi' nothin' to do an' nothin' to think-
Nothin' but Life an' Fear!

An' I knowed no more. . . It was good to wake
Beholdin' this blessed quay.
Ay, lad, I was glad when I felt the ache
O' them groggy old bones o' me.
Ho, laugh if ye like! but I says once more-
Carryin' jewels or coals,
Crossin' the ocean or huggin' the shore_
The ships o' the sea ha' souls!