The Titanic Disaster
(1972)

The keel was laid in nineteen-nine
At Harland-Wolff's, Belfast.
Her massive hull, her towering mast
Were pride of all the White Star Line.

In nineteen-twelve she sailed from port,
Left this fair land behind her;
She carried those who freedom sought,
Whose names are grim reminder
Of a once great ship, an ocean trip
And the perils of the sea.

So while she passed that Sunday through,
A day of silver and shining blue,
The sea was calm, the weather clear;
No thought was there of any fear.

Yet as she sped, her engines fed,
Her lights still brightly blazing,
And while her lookouts sat up high
The deep dark waters gazing,
A shout revealed that ice was nigh -
Tall white columns in the sky.

A gentle scraping from below
Was all that one could hear.
Who among us then could know
What grief the night would bring?
Yet still no sign was there of fear
No word of loss, no falling tear.

"Abandon ship!" was passed around
Loudly amidst the alarm gongs sound.
The ship took on a heavy list.
The bow was sinking fast.
White steam around the funnels hissed.
They knew she could not last.

The ghastly light of rocket flare
Illumed that dying ship;
And calls for help now rent the air,
And prayers on every lip.

The little lifeboats rowed away,
But fifteen hundred had to stay
Lined the railings, all condemned,
Waiting for the tragic end,

The band played on,
The lifeboats gone;
And then the stern rose high.
A giant finger 'gainst the sky,
She slipped beneath the waves.

And through the night-flecked sky,
O'er softly shining water,
From every boat arose a cry,
For parent, son or daughter.

The rescue ships arrived at dawn
As the eastern sky was paling.
The rescued on that chilly morn
Thronged the crowded railing,
And remembered a ship, an ocean trip
And the perils of the sea.