It was the maiden voyage of RMS Tayleur
with over 600 people imagining
the warm azure skies of Australia.
But on a winter's day in 1854
just 48 hours into the fateful trip
a mist descended and the cruel wind roared
terrifying young families aboard.
The once pristine ship smashed
against the indifferent rocks of Lambay Island
a short way from old Dublin town.
More than 300 died at that awful time,
not of natural causes in the Australian sun
as for many poor souls their destiny
was to drown in the freezing Irish Sea.
Only three women reached the sanctuary of the shore,
heavy garments dragging them down like stones.
I can't envisage their final moments
as Poseidon ended their hopes and dreams,
oh, how precious and brittle life is.
The skeleton of the ship lies below,
you can still hear screams...as the wild winds blow.
with over 600 people imagining
the warm azure skies of Australia.
But on a winter's day in 1854
just 48 hours into the fateful trip
a mist descended and the cruel wind roared
terrifying young families aboard.
The once pristine ship smashed
against the indifferent rocks of Lambay Island
a short way from old Dublin town.
More than 300 died at that awful time,
not of natural causes in the Australian sun
as for many poor souls their destiny
was to drown in the freezing Irish Sea.
Only three women reached the sanctuary of the shore,
heavy garments dragging them down like stones.
I can't envisage their final moments
as Poseidon ended their hopes and dreams,
oh, how precious and brittle life is.
The skeleton of the ship lies below,
you can still hear screams...as the wild winds blow.
