Traditional words and music, arrangement by Bill Staines

We were homeward bound out on the deep
Swinging in my hammock, I fell asleep.
I dreamed a dream and I thought it true,
Concerning Franklin, and his gallant crew.

With a hundred seamen he sailed away,
To the frozen ocean in the month of May.
To seek a passage around the pole,
Where we poor sailors do sometimes roll.

Through cruel misfortune they vainly strove,
Their ships on mountains of ice was drove,
Where the Eskimo in his skin canoe,
Was the only one who could make it through.

In Baffin's bay where the whalefish blow,
The fate of Franklin, no man may know.
The fate of Franklin, no tongue can tell,
For Franklin, alone, with his seamen dwells.

And now my burden, it gives me pain.
For the long lost Franklin, I would cross the main.
Ten thousand pounds I would freely give,
To know that Franklin still did live.

Homeward bound…