ver de beeg grey stone;
Dey call it de Holy Islan,'
For wance, on de day gone by,
A holy man from a far-off lan'
Is leevin' dere, till he die.

Down from de ole, ole people,
Scatter upon de shore,
De story come of Fader Jerome,
De pries' of Salvador
Makin' hees leetle house dere,
Wit' only hees own two han',
Workin' along, an' singin' de song
Nobody understan'.

"All for de ship an' sailor
Out on de stormy sea,
I mak' ma home," say Fader Jerome,
"W'ere de rock an' de beeg wave be
De good God up on de Heaven
Is answer me on de prayer,
An' bring me here, so I 'll never fear,
But foller heem ev'ryw'ere!"

Lonely it was, dat islan',
Seven league from de coas',
An' only de cry, so loud an' high,
Of de poor drown sailors' ghos'
You hear, wit' de screamin' sea gull;
But de man of God he go
An' anchor dere, an' say hees prayer
For ev'rywan here below.

Night on de ocean 's fallin',
Deep is de fog, an' black,
As on dey come, to deir islan' home,
De sea-bird hurryin' back;
W'at is it mak' dem double
An' stop for a minute dere,
As if in fear of a soun' dey hear,
Meetin' dem on de air?

Sweeter dey never lissen,
Magic it seem to be,
Hangin' aroun', dat wonderful soun',
Callin' across de sea;
Music of bell 's widin it,
An' foller it on dey go
High on de air, till de islan' dere
Of Salvador lie below.

Dat 's w'ere de bell 's a-ringin'
Over de ocean track,
Troo fog an' rain an' hurricane,
An' w'enever de night is black;
Kipin' de vow he 's makin',
Dat 's w'at he 's workin' for,
Ringin de bell, an' he do it well,
De Fader of Salvador!

An' de years go by, an' quickly,
An' many a sailor's wife
She 's prayin' long, an' she 's prayin' strong
Dat God he will spare de life
Of de good, de holy Fader,
Off w'ere de breakers roar,
Only de sea for hees companie,
Alone on Salvador.

* * * *

Summer upon de islan',
Quiet de sea an' air,
But no bell ring, an' de small bird sing,
For summer is ev'ryw'ere;
A ship comin' in, an' on it
De wickedes' capitaine
Was never sail on de storm, or gale,
From here to de worl's en'!

"Geev' me dat bell a-ringin'
For not'ing at all, mon pere;
Can't sleep at night, w'en de moon is bright,
For noise she was makin' dere.
I'm sure she