You feeling-hearted Christian, with me now sympathize
When you hear my lamentation, ’twill draw tears from your eyes
Concerning those poor emigrants that lately sail’d away
On board the “Anglo Saxon,” to them a woeful day.
On the 17th of April, in the year of sixty-three
We sailed away from Liverpool with spirits light and free
But little was our notion, as you may well all perceive –
When parting from old Erin’s Isle, we’d meet a watery grave.
The number of our passengers were four hundred and forty-four
For ten long days we ploughed the seas, bound for Columbia shore
Until the twenty-seventh, as you may plainly see
?? four miles of Cape Clare, we met our destiny
‘Twas soon a heavy fog arose, as you may understand
Our Captain cries, “I fear my boys, ?? danger now at hand”
Those words he had scarce spoken, when we got a dreadful shock
Our gallant ship in pieces was split against a rock.
The cries of these poor passengers would rend your heart with grief
To see them tossed upon the wreck, and could find no relief
It was the will of the Almighty: one hundred and eighty-nine were saved
But alas, two hundred and thirty-seven met a watery grave.
The scene upon that morning would fill your heart with fear
Just at half past 3 o’clock, when danger did appear
A night of terror then took place, which caused our sad downfall
And to our blessed Saviour for mercy we did call.
Those poor unhappy passengers – that left their native home
It was the failure of the crops, that caused them for to roam
To leave the land that gave them birth – a living for to seek
But now, ?? their bodies lie in the briney deep
Now to conclude and finish, I have no more to say
For the souls of those poor passengers, let every Christian pray
Two hundred and thirty-seven souls we may lament, ?? sunk beneath the deep
May the Lord have mercy on their souls – and grant their friends relief.
Text transcribed from the original broadside ballad.