_'The little schooner "Patriot"--_
_I can't forget the vessel's name;_
_We met her rounding Naggs Head Bank;_
_We made her people walk the plank,_
_Twelve men whose faces I forgot._

_But there was one sweet lady there,_
_With lovely eyes and lovely hair,_
_Whose face has stayed like pain and care._
_For every man she made a prayer;_
_And when the last had found the sea,_
_I cried to her to pray for me._

_She prayed--and took this ring, and said:_
_"Wear this for me when I am dead."_
_She bowed her head, then steadfastly_
_She walked into the hungry sea._
_But silent words were on her lips,_
_And there was comfort in her hand;_
_It was as if she walked a bridge_
_That led into a pleasant land._
_All that was long and long ago,_
_So long ago this ring has grown_
_To be a very part of me,_
_One with my finger and the bone:'_
His voice went trailing in a moan.

_'This is her ring--_
_This is her ring!_