An American frigate, call'd the Richard by name,
Mounted guns forty-four, form New York she came,
To cruise in the channel of old England's fame,
With a noble commander, Paul Jones was his name.

We had not cruised long, before two sails we espied,
A large forty-four, and a twenty likewise,
Fifty bright shipping, well loaded with stores,
And the convoy stood in for the old Yorkshire shore.

Bout the hour of twelve, we came alongside
With long speaking trumpet; whence came you, he cried.
Come answer me quickly, I hail you no more,
Or else a broadside into you I will pour.

We fought them four glasses, four glasses, so hot,
Till forty bold seamen lay dead on the spot,
And fifty-five more lay bleeding in gore,
While the thund'ring large cannons of Paul Jones did roar.

Our carpenter being frightened, to Paul Jones did say,
Our ship she leaks water since fighting to-day
Paul Jones he made answer in the height of his pride,
If we can do no better, we'll sink alongside.

Paul Jones he then smiled, & to his men did say,
Let every man stand the best of his play,
For broadside for broadside they fought on the main,
Like true buckskin heroes we return'd it again

The Ceraphus wove round our ship for to rake,
Which made the proud hearts of the English to ach,
The shot flew so hot, we could not stand it long,
Till the bold British colours from the English came down.

Oh no my brave boys, we have taken a rich prize,
A large forty-four, and a twenty likewise;
To help the poor mothers have reason to weep,
For the loss of their sons in the unfathomed deep.

'Twas of a lofty ship, boys, and she put out to sea,
She goes by the name of the Golden Vanity
She's likely to be taken by a Tukish roving canoe,
As she sails along the Lowlands
Ch: Lowlands, as she sails along the Lowlands low!

Then up and spake our little cabin boy,
Saying "What will you give me if I will them destroy ?
If I will them destroy, send them floating o'er the tide,
And sink them in the Lowlands ?"

"O the man that them destroys," the captain then replied,
"A fortune he shall have and my daughter to his bride.
A fortune he shall have and my daughter beside
If he'll sink them in the Lowlands."

The boy bent his breast and away he jumped in,
He swam until he came to the Turkish galley-in;
He took an auger with him for to bore through her skin,
And sink her in the Lowlands.

And some were playing cards and some were playing dice;
He bored three holes once, he bored three holes twice,
The water flow-ed in, and it dazzled their eyes,
As they sunk in the Lowlands.

The boy swam back first upon the starboard side,
Crying "Captain, pick me up, for I'm wearied with the tide,
O Captain, pick me up, for I'm wearied with the tide,
And I'm sinking in the Lowlands."

"I will not pick you up, you can climb up her side,
I will not pick you up," the master replied,
"I will kill you, I will shoot you, send you floating with the tide,
And sink you in the Lowlands."

The boy swam round unto the larboard side,
Crying, "Messmates, pick me up, for I'm wearied with the tide,
O messmates, pick me up, for I'm wearied with the tide,
And I'm sinking in the Lowlands."

His messmates picked him up, and on the deck he died.
They sewed him in his hammock which was both long and wide,
And they hove him in the sea, sent him floating with the tide,
And sunk him in the Lowlands.

Memory carries my fancy
Back to the days that are long past gone;
There stands a sailor dressed in garments of blue,
Biding a lone, weeping widow adieu
Vows of the future he laughingly makes,
While from her finger a keeper she takes,
And with words so tender, broken with tears
These were the words whispered into my ears

(Quicker)
"'Tis but a little golden ring she gave to me with pride;
Wear it for your mother's sake when you're on the tide.
If you are in trouble, comfort it will bring
To think of me while gazing on that little golden ring."

Now it's "God bless us," 'twixt Mother and me.
Good-by forever, perhaps it may be.
Then he turned and manfully strode,
Till hidden from view by a turn in the road.
When on the vessel the anchor is weighed,
Then for some strange destination they made,
But bright as a beacon my keeper doth gleam,
And the voice of my mother doth say in my dream:

Time brought promotion and honor to me.
Duty was done as duty should be.
Every mail brought me a letter from home,
Oft-times were opened in grief, I must own.
Slowly but surely those letters decreased,
Then all of a sudden they silently ceased.
But bright as a beacon my keeper doth gleam,
And the voice of my mother doth say in my dream:

Now then, old England's white cliffs are at hand;
Once more I see my own native land.
Strangers were there for to answer my call,
For Mother was sleeping her last sleep of all.
Gold or silver or jewels divine
Could not tempt me to part with that keeper of mine,
For bright as a beacon that keeper doth gleam,
And the voice of my mother doth say in my dream: