THE FLYING CLOUD.
Copyright, 1894, by Henry J. Wehman.
Sung with great success by Leonard D. Geldert.
My name is Edward Hollahan, as you may understand;
I belong to County Waterford, not for from Dyman's land.
When I was young and in my prime, And beauty on me smiled,
My parents reared me tenderly, I being their only child.
My father bound me to a trade in Water street so fair.
He bound me to a cooper there who's name was Willie Brown;
I served my master faithfully for eighteen months or more,
Until I shipped on board of the Ocean Queen, bound to Bermuda shore.
When we arrived in Bermuda town I met with Captain Moore,
Commander of the Flying Cloud, belonging to Trimore,
Who kindly invited me on a slave voyage to go,
To the burning shores of Africa where the sugar cane does grow.
The Flying Cloud is as fine a ship as ever swam the seas,
Or ever spread a maintopsail beneath the lively breeze.
I've often seen that gallant ship, when the wind blew abaft her beam,
With her sails and royals spread aloft going sixteen off the reel.
The Flying Cloud is a Spanish ship, five hundred tons or more,
She can easily sail 'round any ship going out of Bollymore.
Her sails are like the driven snow and on them there's no stain;
With eighty-nine pounder brass guns she carries abaft her beam.
We weighed our anchor and set sail with those poor souls on board,
And it would have been better for those poor souls they had been in their graves;
For the plague And fever came on board, swept half of them away,
We dragged their dead bodies on deck and threw them in the sea.
It was a few days after, we reached the Cuban shore;
We sold them to the planters there to he slaves for evermore,
The rye and coffee fields to hoe beneath the burning sun,
And to lead a long And wretched life till their career was run.
When our money was all spent we put to sea again,
When Captain Moore he came on derk and said to us, his men:
There is gold and silver to be had if with me you will remain;
We will hoist a lofty pirate flag, go scour the Spanish main."
We all agreed, excepting five, and those five men did land;
Two of them were Boston men, two more from Newfoundland,
The other was an Irishman, belonging to Trimore.
Oh, I wish to God I joined those men and went with them on shore.
We robbed and plundered many a ship down on the Spanish main,
Caused many a mother's orphan child in sorrow to complain;
Their crews we made them walk the plank and gave them watery graves,
For the saying of our capiain was that "a dead man tells no tails."
Chased we were by many a ship, liners and frigates too,
But all in vain aslern of us their cannons roared so loud;
It was all in vain to ever try to catch the Flying Cloud.
Until a man-of-war, a Spanish ship, the Dungeon, hove in view;
She fired a shot across our bow, a signal to hear, too;
We heeded not to what she said, but fled before the wind,
When a chain shot struck our mizzenmast, then we soon fell behind.
We cleared our decks for action as she ranged alongside,
And soon across our quarter deck there ran a crimson tide;
We fought till Captain Moore was slain and eighty of his men,
When a bomb shell set our ship on fire, we were forced to surrender then.
So fare you well, you shady bowers, and the girl that I adore;
Your voice, like music soft and sweet, will cheer my heart no more;
No more I'll kiss your ruby lips or squeeze your lily hand,
For I must die a dreadful death all in a foreign land.
Next to Newgate I was brought, bound down in heavy chains,
For the robbing and plundering of ships down on the Spanish main.
It was drinking and bad company that made a wretch of me;
So, all young men, think of my downfall And the curse of piracy.