Born to the Island, a woman of past
sat spinning on her wheel
spinning the fleece of her sheep to last
while her man stood on the keel.

She cast her weary eye to sea,
Thro` the mist to sight his ship
will he e`re come home to me
for the sea was rough this trip

There`s many a man has drowned
many a widow to grieve
as she spun her yarn and frowned
please God to beg reprieve.

As the thick night mist turned colder
a tear rolled down her cheek
her shawl wrapped round her shoulder
for it was cold , dark, and bleak.

She sadly walked towards the shore
the mist was slowly lifting
for she would see her man once more
his ship was homeward drifting

She knelt down on the land to pray,,
tonight they would be together
for she had thought him, many a day
lost to the sea forever.