@migu music@

A ship lay off this county, not far from

Hartland Bay, She struck her boughs against the rocks, all souls were swept away.

But from the wreck swam one man, survivor of that storm:

An old black crook, no words he spoke, but

Coppinger was born A farmer's daughter came on down, to see this fearsome wreck,

A handsome man within her sights, her horse he quickly lept.

And off towards that cottage door where the fields are soft and gay,

Afar he turned, said, "Marry me,

Black Coppinger the Dane" (Chorus)

A thunder, you can hear him call, a thunder roared, to the

Black Prince of the night

You hear him call, a thunder roared, to the

Black Prince of the night...