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The story of my Great Great Grandmother’s dream on the night of the sinking was well known in our family as it was mentioned in my Great Grandfather’s 1938 BBC radio play. I had assumed it was a story that had grown with the telling until I found a contemporary newspaper article from The Cornishman. The article also tells that seven year old Osmond thought he had heard his father return from sea that night.
One can only imagine the grief that must have befallen Susan, with not only a second husband lost at sea, but also her eldest son.
lyrics
Dreamt I looked out o’er the sea.
Mid-winter cold surrounding me,
Watched the steamer strike the smack,
Heard her timbers split and crack.
Watched the men jump into the sea,
I wake, I’m sweating, I’m screaming.
Richard, Richard, Richard save my boy.
In the early morning gloom,
Young Osmond creeps into my room,
“Mother, is my Father there,
I heard his boots on the stair,
He came in as the clock struck three,
I knew he was from sea.
Mercy, Mercy, mercy on my boys.
Dazed I wonder on the quayside,
Hoping I will find some news,
But not a peep, Not a rumour,
Had yet to reach the town.
Last night in that dream of terror,
I saw the ocean pull them down.
Know that in their passing moments,
We see the souls of men that drown.
Alone I look out o’re the bay,
Sky and water cold leaden grey,
This cruel and haunted sea,
Has now twice widowed me,
Swallowed up my eldest boy,
And robbed me of hope and joy.
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