Down fell the steward on his face,
To all the Saints commending;
And candles to the Virgin vow’d,
As save-alls ’gainst his ending.
Down fell the mate, he thought his fate,
Check-mate, was close impending!
Down fell the cook—the cabin boy,
Their beads with fervour telling,
While alps of serge with snowy verge,
Above the yards came yelling.