This was on April twenty-sixth,
They put to sea, full sore perplext,
At the same place he came on shore,
When first he landed the year before.
Dark was the night, the wind blew high,
The rain drove on, black was the sky,
No deck or cover was to be got,
Pump or compass had they not;
Before the wind they durst not stand;
Because they knew not where to land: