Ye plucky boys of Lear's Cove,
Ye heroes of our bay,
Ye on more than one occasion,
Done on land and sea.
On the 25th of November,
The sea ran mountains high;
The breakers roared on the cape shore,
We heard a mournful cry.
Said Albert Young, 'Tis cries for help,
It's from a shipwrecked crew;
It's too rough to launch our boats,
What is the best to do?
We'll all go to the Beach Cove,
I hope we'll meet things right;
We'll save them in Beach Cove,
When they see our lantern light.
When we got down in Beach Cove,
The wind and sea did roar;
We got them safely landed,
To see their friends once more.
When we got them on the beach,
Unto our great surprise,
To save those five poor sailor boys,
That dark and stormy night.
To get them over Broyle's Scrape,
We fought the wind and rain;
At five o'clock next morning,
We were all home safe again.
Long life to those brave Lear's Cove boys,
For their pluck and bravery, too;
And all the danger they went in,
To save the shipwrecked crew.
Their pluck and bravery will be spoke,
And praised up many a day,
By the sailors of the Alma Cooke,
'Twas lost near Golden Bay.