The Cliffs of Baccalieu    We were bound home in October from the shores of Laborador  Trying to head a bad Nor'easter and snow, too  But the wind swept down upon us making day as black as night  Just before we made the land of Baccalieu.    Oh we tried to clear the Island as we brought her farther South  And the wind from out the Nor'east stonger blew  Till our lookout soon he shouted and there lay dead ahead  Through the snow squalls loomed the cliffs of Baccalieu.    It was hard down by the tiller as we struggled with the sheets  Tried our best to haul them in a foot or two  Till our decks so sharply tilted that we could barely keep our feet  As we hauled her from the rocks of Baccalieu.    Oh the combers beat her under and we thought she ne'er would rise  And her mainboom was bending neigh in two  With our lee rails three feet under and two hands at the wheel  Sure, we hauled her from the rocks of Baccalieu    Oh to leeward was the island and to win'ard was the gale  And the blinding sleet would cut you through and through  But our hearts were beating gladly for no longer could we gaze  Down to leeward at the cliffs of Baccalieu.