Here a sheer hulk lies poor Tom Bowling

The darling of our crew

No more he'll hear the tempest howling

For death has broached him to

His form was of the manliest beauty

His heart was kind and soft

Faithful below he did his duty

And now he's gone aloft

And now he's gone aloft

Tom never from his word departed

His virtues were so rare

His friends were many and true hearted

His Poll was kind and fair

And then he'd sing so blithe and jolly

Ah Many's the time and oft

But mirth is turn'd to melancholy

For Tom is gone aloft

For Tom is gone aloft

Yet shall poor Tom find pleasant weather

When He who all commands

Shall give to call life's crew together

The word to pipe all hands

Thus Death who kings and tars despatches

In vain Tom's life hath doff'd

For tho' his body's under hatches

His soul is gone aloft

His soul is gone aloft