(It's been) seven years she'd been imprisoned Seven years beset with dread Seven years white death envisioned Seven years of doubt well-fed The desolation of the weed continent And the cemetary of seas Her volition turned all somnolent Longing for an ease There stood Mary Madison Firmly the ladle she gripped And out of some old bucket Good ol' rum she dipped Howbeit we won the day The captain's wife was lost Mary wallows in dismay Pities (her demise) with disgust So brace yourselves, ye seamen brave Behold a bright light burning Whenever be the seas so grave - For man and maid the tide is turning