The Loss of the Schooner Mollie



Come all ye Newfoundlanders, and hear of this sad tale
About the Schooner Mollie which foundered in a gale
On the nineteenth of December those men left St. John’s town;
With joyful expectations were glad they were homeward bound.
But the day was short and the night was long with snow and hail
The wind came in from the North East and blew an awful gale.

A chilly mist enwrapped the dawn upon that fading morn
For in the darkness of the night a savage storm was born
A mighty whirling wind rushed fast toward that land of Death
It smote with sword of sharpest teeth and with resistless breath
And terrible the sea that dashed on high with awful roar
Twas there the Mollie met her doom on the rocks of Grate’s Cove shore.

Oh God! Our helpless sailors, those men upon the wave
With wind and sea all lashing round, was there no power to save?
Thous lookest down, O Mighty God, on passing scenes of woe
Grim Death which ends rich lives is not so dire a foe.
But yet those dying, drowning cries ring in my ears the more
Re-echo from that Point of land, the coast of Grate’s Cove shore.

But hark! What is that muffled sound? Me thinks I hear them pray
A prayer that none but God could hear on that cold, stormy day
They might have prayed for human help, but none was very night
But prayer is surely answered and God took them home on high
So with that boundless mercy which comes from God alone
We leave them in His loving hands who were so far from home.

Twas there the Mollie went ashore, and all six men were drowned
The Grate’s Cove men worked hard and all their bodies found
Our praise is due to those fine men, who worked both day and night
To get the bodies from the deep was met with our delight
Again we thank them one and all, and love them every one
God will reward them all when all their work is done.

The least [sic] day of December the Ranger hove in sight
With her flag half-mast, a single blast we knew that she was right
She came up in the Harbour, although it was but slow
The wind was light and frosty and but a little snow
She came in very easy when all was calm and blue
She tied up at the Coastal wharf and landed the Mollie’s crew.

And when the dead were landed on that sad eventide,
The crew and passengers lined the deck all on the Starboard side,
“Nearer My God to Thee” they sang; while heads were bared and bowed
Our hearts did ache; many tears were shed all from that humble crew
And then the Ranger cast off lines and from the wharf did slip
As we bade adieu to the noble crew and passengers of that good ship.

And now our friends are sleeping within their narrow tombe
We’ll meet again, we don’t know when, it may be very soon
So dry your tears my sorrowing friends and face us with a smile
The Saviour said that He would come again, it’s only a little while
And when all our work is done, and we the River cross
We’ll meet our friends in the “Haven of Rest” where never a ship is lost.

Lyrics from Halley, p87-8

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