Far on the main young Henry's sailing,
Bending to his hard fate severe;
While his fond love, his loss bewailing,
Mourns the sad absence of her dear.

For three long years a faithful lover,
At last he nam'd the happy day;
When this his parents did discover,
They forc'd my Henry far away.

What hopes and fears distract poor Nancy,
To think of dangers he must brave;
When winds are howling, oft I fancy
He may have found a wat'ry grave.

Yon mossy bank I make my pillow,
Where oft he own'd his tender flame;
Or weep beneath the weeping willow,
Where oft he carv'd his Nancy's name.

I view each well--remember'd token,
The garters gay, 'Still constant be;'
Or read upon the gold that's broken,
'Remember Henry far at sea.'

Yes, Henry, yes, all offers scorning,
Thy Nancy ne'er will faithless prove:
Can I forget the fatal morning,
When last I parted from my love!

Cheer'd with the thought of thy returning,
A while fond Hope dispels each care;
But should Heaven change that hope to mourning,
Thy Nancy soon will meet thee there.