Would you hear a sad story of woe

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.