There by the rocks on the breakers these sisters, hand in hand, Beheld once more that desperate man who struggled to reach the land, 'Twas only aid he wanted to help him across the wave, But what are a couple of women with only a man to save? What are a couple of women? well, more than three craven men Who stood by the shore with chattering teeth, refusing to stir--and then Off went the women's shawls, sir; in a second they're torn and rent, Then knotting them into a rope of love, straight into the sea they went!
"Come back!" cried the lighthouse-keeper. "For God's sake, girls, come back!" As they caught the waves on their foreheads, resisting the fierce attack. "Come back!" moaned the gray-haired mother, as she stood by the angry sea, "If the waves take you, my darlings, there's nobody left to me!"
"Come back!" said the three strong soldiers, who still stood faint and pale, "You will drown if you face the breakers! you will fall if you brave the gale!" "_Come back_!" said the girls, "we will not! go tell it to all the town, We'll lose our lives, God willing, before that man shall drown!"
"Give one more knot to the shawls, Bess! give one strong clutch of your hand! Just follow me, brave, to the shingle, and we'll bring him safe to land! Wait for the next wave, darling! only a minute more, And I'll have him safe in my arms, dear, and we'll drag him to the shore." Up to the arms in the water, fighting it breast to breast, They caught and saved a brother alive. God bless them! you know the rest-- Well, many a heart beat stronger, and many a tear was shed, And many a glass was tossed right off to "The Women of Mumbles Head!"
"'A frightful face'? Wal, yes, yer correct; That man on the enjine thar Don't pack the han'somest countenance-- Every inch of it sportin' a scar; But I tell you, pard, thar ain't money enough Piled up in the National Banks To buy that face, nor a single scar-- (No, I never indulges. Thanks.)
"Yes, Jim is an old-time engineer, An' a better one never war knowed! Bin a runnin' yar since the fust machine War put on the Quincy Road; An' thar ain't a galoot that pulls a plug From Maine to the jumpin' off place That knows more about the big iron hoss Than him with the battered-up face.