There stepped a stranger to the board:
"Now, stranger, who be ye?"
He looked to the right, he looked to the left,
And "Rest you merry," quoth he;
"For you did not see the brig go down,
Or ever a storm had blown;
For you did not see the white wave rear
At the rock,—the Eddystone.
"She drave at the rock with stern sails set;
Crash went the masts in twain;
She staggered back with her mortal blow,
Then leaped at it again.
"There rose a great cry, bitter and strong;
The misty moon looked out!
And the water swarmed with seamen's heads,
And the wreck was strewed about.
"I saw her mainsail lash the sea,
As I clung to the rock alone;
Then she heeled over, and down she went,
And sank like any stone.
"She was a fair ship, but all's one!
For naught could bide the shock."—
"I will take horse," Winstanley said,
"And see this deadly rock.
"For never again shall bark o' mine
Sail o'er the windy sea,
Unless, by the blessing of God, for this
Be found a remedy."
Winstanley rode to Plymouth town
All in the sleet and the snow;
And he looked around on shore and sound,
As he stood on Plymouth Hoe.
Till a pillar of spray rose far away,
And shot up its stately head,
Reared, and fell over, and reared again:
"'Tis the rock! the rock!" he said.
Straight to the Mayor he took his way:
"Good Master Mayor," quoth he,
"I am a mercer of London town,
And owner of vessels three.