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                 The North Star.

You landsmen all, on yon I call, and gallar seamen too,
Till I relate the hardships great that lately ffie went through;
On board the North Star, from Ireland we set sail,
To meet our friends in America—our loss they may bewail,

We had near five hundred souls on board, likewise a gallant crew
For fifteen days we ploughed the seas, the wind tremendous blew
But Still no panger we did fear bound for our native shore,
Our gallant ship nigh the Welch coast she sunk to rise no more.

Through all the rage and tempest our good ship glided on,
She crossed the proud Atlantic without the slightest wrong,
Each heart was joyful they thought from danger they were free
But the coast of Wales, that dreadful spot—soon proved their
      destiny,

On the 8th day of December, most dreadful to deplore,
Our gallant ship, alas! she ran too close to the Weleh shore,
Not thinking any danger near she got a dreadful shock,
And the North Star struck that night upon a fatal rock.

The soreams of those poor passengers would reach the lofty skies
The storm raged, the billows foamed, most dismal were the cries
The captain and his noble crew they strove their lives to save,
But all their efforts were in vain—they met a watery grave.

fore the gallant ship went down they fired signal guns,
And sent np rockets in the air, but no relief did ceme,
Their soreams and cries for mercy would pierce your heart full
      sore,
But these unhappy passengers they dunk to rise no more.

The scene was dreadful to bohola when day light did appear
To see their manglod bodies float for from you'd shed a tear,
The mothers held their children, as i?; death's grave they lay,
And husbands with their loving wives washed in by the sea.

On the 8th day of December last, they met their awful fate,
On board the North Star, (it's heart-rending to relate,)
Out of near 500 passengers but twenty-nine were saved,
The rest was lost nigh the Welch coast— they met a wat