De captinne—scow—an’ de poor Rosie
Was corpses on de shore.
For de win’ she blow lak’ hurricain,
Bimeby she blow some more,
An’ de scow bus’ h’up on Lac Saint Pierre,
Wan h’arpent from de shore.
Moral
Now h’all good wood scow sailor man
Tak’ warning by dat storm,
An’ go an’ marry some nice French girl