Classic Poem

Come all you true born shanty boys,
Wherever you may be,
Come sit here on the deacon seat
And listen unto me.
'Tis of six young Canadian boys,
And a hero you should know,
And how they broke the jam on Gerry's Rocks,
With their foreman, young Monroe.

'Twas on a Sunday morning
Ere daylight did appear;
Our logs were piled up mountain high
We could not keep them clear.
Till six of our brave shanty boys
They did agree to go
And break the jam on Gerry's Rocks
With foreman, young Monroe.

We had not picked up many a log
Till Monroe he did say:
I'd have you boys be on your guard
This jam will soon give way.
He had no more than spoke the words
When the jam did break and go,
And with it went those six brave men,
And foreman, young Monroe.

When the rest of all the shanty boys
The sad news came to hear;
They gathered at the river
And downward they did steer.
And there they found to their surprise
And sorrow, grief and woe,
All cut and mangled on the beach,
Lay the form of young Monroe.

They buried him most tenderly,
'Twas on the 4th of May,
Now, come all you bold shanty boys,
And for your comrade pray.
And engraved upon a hemlock tree
Which on the beach did grow
Was the day and date of the drowning
Of foreman, young Monroe.