In 1846,
in March of the 18th day,
We heist our colours to the top of the ship,
And for Greenland sailed away, brave boys,
And for Greenland sailed away.
The lookout on the cross we stood,
Fist by glass in his hand,
And there's a whale,
there's a whale,
There's a fine whale fish,
And she blows at every span,
brave boys,
And she blows at every span.
The captain stood on the quarter deck,
The ice was in his eyes,
Overhull,
overhull,
let your gaps easeful,
And put your boats to sea,
brave boys,
And put your boats to sea.
The harpoon struck,
and the line played out,
With the one single flurries of its tail,
It capsized the boat, and we lost five men,
And we did not catch the whale,
brave boys,
And we did not catch the whale.
Oh,
they'll lose enough,
those five jolly men,
That grieve their captain's sore,
They'll lose enough, that fine whale fish,
Now it grieved ten, ten times more, brave boys,
Now it grieved ten, ten times more.
Now Greenland is a barren land,
A land that knows no green,
Where there's ice and snow,
And the whale fishes blow,
And the daylight's seldom seen,
brave boys,
And the daylight's seldom seen.