I pray you pay attention And listen unto me Concerning all those noble men Who drownded in the sea. 'Twas in the month of February In 1862, These vessels sailed from Gloucester With each a hardy crew. The course was East-South-East they steered, Cape Ann being out of sight; They anchored on the Banks that night With everything alright. But on the 24th, at night, The wind come on to blow, The seas rose up like mountain-tops, Which proved their overthrow. The thoughts of home and loving ones Did grieve their hearts full sore, For well convinced were all these men They'd see their homes no more. No tongue can ever describe the scene, The sky was full of snow, And fifteen ships did founder there And to bottom go. A hundred and forty-nine brave friends Who lately left the land, Now they sleep on George's Bank, In the rough and shifting sand. One hundred and seventy children These men have left on shore, And seventy mournful widows Their sorrows to endure. So now, you'd think with gloomy thoughts, As on life's path you roam Of many's the happy hours and days You've spent with them at home; For you they left their native shore, For you the seas did roam, For love and duty called them forth To leave their happy home. So now, adieu to George's Bank, My heart it doth despise, For many's the gale I've seen out there, And heard those widows cry. And now I bid you all adieu, Dry up your tearful eye; Prepare to meet your God above And dwell beyond the skies.