Poetry of Cherry

Andrew Cherry
born 1762, died 1812

The Bay Of Biscay, O!

Loud roared the dreadful thunder,
The rain a deluge showers,
The clouds were rent asunder
By lightning's vivid powers;
The night both drear and dark,
Our poor devoted bark,
Till next day, there she lay,
In the Bay of Biscay, O!

Now dashed upon the billow,
Our opening timbers creak,
Each fears a wat'ry pillow,
None stops the dreadful leak;
To cling to slipp'ry shrouds
Each breathless seaman crowds,
As she lay, till the day,
In the Bay of Biscay, O!

At length the wished-for morrow
Broke through the hazy sky,
Absorbed in silent sorrow,
Each heaved a bitter sigh;
The dismal wreck to view,
Struck horror to the crew,
As she lay, on that day,
In the Bay of Biscay, O!

Her yielding timbers sever,
Her pitchy seams are rent.
When Heaven all bounteous ever,
Its boundless mercy sent;
A sail in sight appears,
We hail her with three cheers,
Now we sail, with the gale,
From the Bay of Biscay, O!

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