Classic Poem

Come all you wild and wicked youths
Wherever you may be,
I pray you give attention
And listen unto me.
The fate of our poor transports
You shall understand,
The hardships they undergo
Upon Van Dieman's Land.

Young men all now beware
Lest you are drawn into a snare.

I and five more went out one night
To Squire Dunhill's park
To see if we could get some game
But the night it proved too dark.
And to our sad misfortune
They hemmed us in with speed
And sent us off to Warwick gaol
Which caused our hearts to bleed.

And at the March assizes
At the bar we did appear;
Like Job we stood with patience
To hear our sentence there.
We being old offenders
It made our case more hard;
Our sentence was for fourteen years
And I got sent on board.

The ship that bore us from the land
Speedwell was by name;
For about six months and upwards
We ploughed the raging main;
No land or harbour could we see,
Believe it is no lie,
Beneath us one black water
Above us one blue sky.

I often looked behind me
To see my native shore,
That cottage of contentment
That I shall see no more.
Nor yet my aged father,
He tore his old grey hair,
Likewise my aged mother,
In her womb she did me bear.

On the fifteenth of September
Was when we made the land.
At four o'clock next morning
All chained hand to hand,
To see my fellow sufferers
I'm sure I can't tell how:
Some were chained to a harrow
And others to a plough.

No shoes nor stockings had they on,
No hats had they to wear;
Leather breeches and linen drawers,
Their head and feet were bare.
They drove about in two and two,
Like horses in a team,
The driver he stood over them
With his malacca cane.

As we marched into Sydney town
Without no more delay,
A gentleman he bought me
His bookkeeper to be.
I took the occupation,
My master loved me well;
My joys were out of measure,
I'm sure no tongue could tell.

He had a female servant,
Rosanna was by name,
For fourteen years a convict,
From Wolverhampton came.
We often told our tales of love
While we were blest at home,
But now the rattling of our chains
In a foreign land to roam.
Young men now all beware
Lest you are drawn into a snare.

Come all you wild young people and listen to my song,
Which I will unfold concerning gold, that guides so many wrong.
Young Emma was a servant maid and loved a sailor bold,
He ploughed the main, much gold to gain for his love, as we've been told.

He ploughed the main for seven years and then he returned home.
As soon as he set foot on shore, unto his love did go.
He went unto young Emma's house, his gold all for to show,
That he had gained upon the main, all in the Lowlands low.

" My father keeps a public house down by the side of the sea,
And you go there and stay the night, and there you wait for me.
I'll meet you in the morning, but don't let my parents know
Your name it is Young Edwin that ploughed the Lowlands low."

Young Edwin he sat drinking till time to go to bed.
He little thought a sword that night would part his body and head,
And Edwin he got into bed and scarcely was asleep
When Emily's cruel parents soft into his room did creep.

They stabbed him, dragged him out of bed, and to the sea did go.
They sent his body floating down to the Lowlands low.
As Emily she lay sleeping, she had a dreadful dream:
She dreamed she saw Young Edwin's blood a-flowing like the stream.

" O father, where's the stranger come here last night to lay?"
" Oh, he is dead, no tales can tell," her father he did say.
" Then father, cruel father, you'll die a public show,
For the murdering of Young Edwin that ploughed the Lowlands low.

" The fishes of the ocean swim o'er my lover's breast,
His body rolls in motion, I hope his soul's at rest.
The shells along the seashore that are rolling to and fro
Remind me of my Edwin that ploughed the Lowlands low."

So many a day she passed away and tried to ease her mind,
And Emma, broken-hearted, was to Bedlam forced to go,
Crying, " O my friends, my love is gone, and I am left behind."
Her shrieks were for Young Edwin that ploughed the Lowlands low.