Methinks I see a host of craft spreading their sails a-lee
As down the Humber they do glide all bound for the Northern Sea.
Methinks I see on each small craft a crew with hearts so brave
Going out to earn their daily bread upon the restless wave.
And it's three score and ten boys and men were lost from Grimsby town.
From Yarmouth down to Scarborough many hundreds more were drowned.
Our herring craft, our trawlers, our fishing smacks as well,
They long to fight the bitter night and battle with the swell.
Methinks I see them yet again as they leave the shores behind
And cast their nets into the waves, those herring shoals to find.
Methinks I see them yet again and all on board's all right,
With their sails close reefed and the decks
Cleared up and the sidelights burning bright.
And it's three score and ten boys and men were lost from Grimsby town.
From Yarmouth down to Scarborough many hundreds more were drowned.
Our herring craft, our trawlers, our fishing smacks as well,
They long to fight the bitter night and battle with the swell.
Well October's night t'was such a sight, t'was never seen before:
As masts and yards and broken spars came floating to the shore.
There was many a heart of sorrow, there was many a heart so brave.
There was many a hearty fisher lad who found their watery grave.
And it's three score and ten boys and men were lost from Grimsby town.
From Yarmouth down to Scarborough many hundreds more were drowned.
Our herring craft, our trawlers, our fishing smacks as well,
They long to fight the bitter night and battle with the swell.