I hauled below, but to and fro
I saw the dead men glide,
With never a plank their bones to tow,
As the slippery seas they ride.
While the bale-star burned where the mists swayed low
They clasped each hand to hand,
And swore an oath by the winds that blow—
They swore by the sea and land.
They swore to fight till the Judgment Day,
Each night ere the cock should crow,