(Traditional)

In eighteen hundred and forty-six

On March the eighteenth day

We hoisted our colors to the top of the mast

And for Greenland sailed away, brave boys

And for Greenland sailed away



The lookout in the crosstrees stood

With spyglass in his hand

There's a whale, there's a whale

And a whalefish he cried

And she blows at every span, brave boys

She blows at every span



The captain stood on the quarter deck

The ice was in his eye

Overhaul, overhaul! Let your gibsheets fall

And you'll put your boats to sea, brave boys

And you'll put your boats to sea



Our harpoon struck and the line played out

With a single flourish of his tail

He capsized the boat and we lost five men

And we did not catch the whale, brave boys

And we did not catch the whale



The losing of those five jolly men

It grieved the captain sore

But the losing of that fine whalefish

Now it grieved him ten times more, brave boys

Now it grieved him ten times more



Now Greenland is a barren land

A land that bares no green

Where there's ice and snow, and the whalefishes blow

And the daylight's seldom seen, brave boys

And the daylight's seldom seen