They sailed away in a gallant bark, Roy Neill and his fair young bride:
he had ventured all in that bounding ark that danced o'er the silvery tide.
But his heart was young and his spirit light, and he dashed the tear away,
As he watched the shore recede from sight of his own sweet Dublin Bay.
Three days they sailed, and a storm arose, and the lightning swept the deep,
And the thunder-crash broke the short repose of the weary sea-boy's sleep.
Roy Neill he clasped his weeping bride, and he kissed her tears away-
Oh! love, 'twas a fatal hour, she cried, when we left sweet Dublin Bay.
On the crowded deck of the doomed ship some stood in their mute despair;
And some, more calm, with a holy lip, sought the God of the storm in prayer.
She has struck on a rock! the seaman cried, in the breath of their wild dismay.
And the ship went down, and the fair young bride that sailed from Dublin Bay.