Then stepped two mariners down the street,
With looks of grief and fear:
"Now, if Winstanley be your name,
We bring you evil cheer!
"For the good ship 'Snowdrop' struck,—she struck
On the rock,—the Eddystone,
And down she went with threescore men,
We two being left alone.
"Down in the deep, with freight and crew,
Past any help she lies,
And never a bale has come to shore
Of all thy merchandise."
"For cloth o' gold and comely frieze,"
Winstanley said, and sighed,
"For velvet coif, or costly coat,
They fathoms deep may bide.
"O thou brave skipper, blithe and kind,
O mariners, bold and true,
Sorry at heart, right sorry am I,
A-thinking of yours and you.
"Many long days Winstanley's breast
Shall feel a weight within,
For a waft of wind he shall be 'feared
And trading count but sin.
"To him no more it shall be joy
To pace the cheerful town,
And see the lovely ladies gay
Step on in velvet gown."
The "Snowdrop" sank at Lammas tide,
All under the yeasty spray;
On Christmas Eve the brig "Content"
Was also cast away.
He little thought o' New Year's night,
So jolly as he sat then,
While drank the toast and praised the roast
The round-faced Aldermen,—
While serving lads ran to and fro,
Pouring the ruby wine,
And jellies trembled on the board,
And towering pasties fine,—