by Charles Godfrey Leland

We met the Flying Dutchman,
    By midnight he came,
His hull was all of hell fire,
    His sails were all aflame;
Fire on the main-top,
    Fire on the bow,
Fire on the gun-deck,
    Fire down below.

Four-and-twenty dead men,
    Those were the crew,
The devil on the bowsprit,
    Fiddled as she flew,
We gave her the broadside,
    Right in the dip,
Just like a candle,
    Went out the ship.