New song!

[two_star]

The Lark was a ship of John Astor’s concern,
For cargo of peltry she sailed for Astoria,
Fine coats for the ladies of Canton and Corea,
Fair profit to take in return.

She rounded the cape troubles none to report,
But hard to the Sandwich Isles, a savage wind blew her;
A wave like a wall struck her, broke her and threw her,
Oh, that I had died in that storm!

Chorus:

There’s many a sailor whose fate is unknown,
And I wish’t to God above, I had been one,
Swamped and becalmed and then circled by sharks,
Oh pity the crew of the Lark.

As we struggled to save her, the boats were both lost,
We clung to the bowsprit as waves crashed and drenched us,
The spars dragged along heaved and battered against us,
When the sea calmed we counted the cost.

Without we were soaked, but within we were parched;
Our islander dove below decks to retrieve us,
A few casks of wine, all there was to relieve us,
Oh, that I had died of my thirst!

Chorus [repeating the tag]
Oh pity, oh pity the crew of the Lark.

The wind that blew fierce, well it soon became scarce;
Though we’d salvaged a jury-mast, a topsail and rigging,
We thereafter northward proceeded in limping,
For the doldrums reproved our repairs.

Then schools of great sharks round the ship took their mark,
Awaiting the feast that our deaths would present them.
The bosun’s mate fell and they tore him and rent him,
Oh, that I were food for that shark!

Chorus

Canoes from Hawayee hailed to us one morn,
Our thoughts were of rescue, but theirs of predation,
For all we had left was the price of salvation:
Our clothes from our persons were torn.

Now we hear news of Astoria Fort,
By treachery sold to the damned Northwest Company.
Our object had never been more than futility,
Oh, that I had never been born!

Chorus [repeating the tag]
Oh pity, oh pity the crew of the Lark.