Young Henry of the Raging Main

J. Cockburn, Printer, West-Tower-Street, Carlisle.

One summer’s morning, as day was dawning,
Down by the pleasant river side,
I saw a brisk and lovely maiden,
And a youth call’d England’s pride!
He was a tight & smart young sailor,
Tears from his eyes did fall like rain,
Saying, adieu, my lovely Emma!
I’m going to plough the raging Main.
Cried Emma,–Henry will you leave me
Behind my sorrows to complain,
For your sweet features lovely Henry
I may ne’er behold again!
See, Emma, dear our ship’s weigh’d anchor,
‘Tis a folly, love, for to complain;
Tho’ you leave, I’ll ne’er deceive,
I’m bound to plough the Raging Main.
Said Emma, Stay a little longer;
Stay at home with your truelove,
But if you enter, I will venture,
I swear by all the powers above!
I’ll venture with my lovely Henry,
Perhaps great honour I may attain;
She cried I’ll enter and boldly I’ll venture
With Henry–love don’t be distracted,
Perhaps you may be cast away,
‘Tis for that reason, cried young Emma,
That behind I will not stay.
I’ll dress myself in man’s apparel,
So dearest Henry don’t complain;
In Jacket blue and tarry trousers,
I will plough the Raging main.
Then on board the brig Eliza,
Henry and his Emma went;
She did her duty like a sailor,
And with her lover was content.
Her pretty hands once soft as velvet,
With pitch and tar appear’d in pain
Tho her hands were soft, she went aloft,
And boldly plough’d the Raging Main.
The Eliza brig was bound for India
And ere she had three weeks set sail,
From land or light, one stormy night,
It blew a bitter and heavy gale.
Undaunted up aloft went Emma
Midst thunder, light’ning, wind and rain
With courage true, in a jacket blue,
Did Emma plough the Raging Main.
Twelve hours long the tempest lasted
At length quite calm it did appear,
And they proceeded on their voyage,
Emma and her true love dear.
When just two years they had been sailing
To England they return’d again,
And no one did suspect young Emma
Ploughing on the watery Main.
In three weeks after, gay young Henry,
Emma made his lawful bride,
Like turtle doves, they live and love,
Each other by the river side,
They happy dwell, and often tell
Their tales of love and ne’er complain,
See how young Emma boldly ventur’d
With young Henry o’er the Main.

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BBO Roud Number: 1618