Three-Score-and-Ten                  William Delf

Methinks I see a host of craft
Spreading their sails alee,
As down the Humber they do glide
All bound for the northern seas.
Methinks I see on each small craft
A crew with hearts so brave,
Going out to earn their daily bread
Upon the restless wave.

Chorus: And it’s three-score-and-ten, boys and men,
Were lost from Grimsby Town;
From Yarmouth down to Scarborough
Many hundreds more were drowned.
Our herring craft, our trawlers,
Our fishing smacks as well,
They long defied that bitter night
And battled with the swell.

Methinks I see them yet again
As they leave the land behind,
Casting their nets into the deep
The herring shoals to find;
Methinks I see them yet again
And all on board’s all right,
With the decks cleared up and the sails close-reefed
And the sidelights burning bright.

October’s night was such a sight
As never seen before,
There was masts and spars and broken yards
Came floating to the shore;
There was many a heart of sorrow,
There was many a heart so brave,
There was many a hearty fisherlad
Did find a watery grave.