(It's been) seven years she'd been imprisoned
Seven years beset with dread
Seven years white death envisioned
Seven years of doubt well-fed

The desolation of the weed continent
And the cemetary of seas
Her volition turned all somnolent
Longing for an ease

There stood Mary Madison
Firmly the ladle she gripped
And out of some old bucket
Good ol' rum she dipped

Howbeit we won the day
The captain's wife was lost
Mary wallows in dismay
Pities (her demise) with disgust

So brace yourselves, ye seamen brave
Behold a bright light burning
Whenever be the seas so grave -
For man and maid the tide is turning