BALLAD. (Would you hear a sad story of…)

Would you hear a sad story of woe, That tears from a stone might provoke, 'Tis concerning a tar you must know, As honest as e'er biscuit broke:

His name was Ben Block, of all men The most true, the most kind, the most brave, But harsh treated by fortune, for Ben In his prime found a watery grave.

His place no one ever knew more; His heart was all kindness and love; Though on duty an eagle he'd soar, His nature had most of the dove:

He lov'd a fair maiden named Kate, His father to interest a slave, Sent him far from his love where hard fate Plunged him deep in a watery grave.

A curse on all slanderous tongues, A false friend his mild nature abused, And sweet Kate of the vilest of wrongs, To poison Ben's pleasure, accused;

That she never had truly been kind, That false were the tokens she gave, That she scorn'd him, and wish'd he might find, In the ocean a watery grave.

Too sure from this cankerous elf, The venom accomplished its end; Ben, all truth all honour himself, Suspected no fraud in his friend:

On the yard, while suspended in air, A loose to his sorrows he gave, Take thy wish, he cried, false cruel fair; And plung'd in a watery grave.