(by Paul Davenport)

The Widow Cross had but one son 
and indeed he was his mother's pride and joy
  So she knitted him a gansey, 
  cable stitched both fine and fancy
and it looked like royal robes upon the boy

	How we knew his bright blue eyes
	How we knew his golden hair
	And the gansey that his mother made
	was fine beyond compare

Tall and bright was Davy Cross, 
with a smiling face that never bore a frown
  How the lasses smiled and sighed, 
  at his strong and manly stride
On a Friday when the fishing fleet left town

	For they ...

At the dance on Saturday, 
the lasses fairly swooned to dance with him
  How they fluttered at his charms, 
  as he held them in his arms,
And their hearts beat faster at his boyish grin

	For they ...

Then one dark October day, 
there came a storm which drove us hard to lea
  And our fishing fleet was tossed, 
  yet just one single craft was lost
Leaving Widow Cross a gazing out to sea

	Well she ...

When just ten weeks had passed and gone, 
they finally brought us news about the loss
  Seemed a body had been found, 
  of a sailor lost and drowned
And in our hearts we knew 'twas Davy Cross

	For we ...

	But it wasn't eyes of blue, 
	nor that hair as pale as foam
	It was the gansey that his mother made 
	that brought young Davy home

recording: The Melrose Quartet [YouTube]

history: knitting and mending a gansey [Sister Mountain]

history: gansey patterns [BBC North Yorkshire]