Yet of all the ship's crew,
Not a seaman that knew
They then had a woman so near 'em;15
On the ocean so deep
She her council did keep,
Ay, and therefore, and therefore she never did fear 'em.
She was valiant and bold,
And would not be controul'd20
By any that dare to offend her;
If a quarrel arose,
She would give him dry blows,
And the captain, the captain did highly commend her.
For he took her to be25
Then of no mean degree,
A gentleman's son, or a squire;
With a hand white and fair,
There was none could compare,
Which the captain, the captain did often admire.
On the Irish shore,31
Where the cannons did roar,
With many stout lads she was landed;
There her life to expose,
She lost two of her toes,35
And in battle, in battle was daily commended.
Under Grafton she fought
Like a brave hero stout,
And made the proud Tories retire;
She in field did appear40
With a heart void of fear,
And she bravely, she bravely did charge and give fire.
While the battering balls
Did assault the strong walls
Of Cork, and sweet trumpets sounded,45
She did bravely advance
Where by unhappy chance
This young female, young female, alas! she was wounded.
At the end of the fray
Still she languishing lay,50
Then over the ocean they brought her,
To her own native shore:
Now they ne'er knew before
That a woman, a woman had been in that slaughter.
What she long had conceal'd55
Now at length she reveal'd,
That she was a woman that ventur'd;
Then to London with care
She did straitways repair,
But she dy'd, oh she dy'd, e'er the city she enter'd.60
When her parents beheld,
They with sorrow was fill'd,
For why, they did dearly adore her;
In her grave now she lies,
Tis not watery eyes,65
No, nor sighing, nor sighing that e'er can restore her.