Fare thee well,
ye icy acres,
Fare well,
ye wailing ground.
But the green in Greenland Made flowers,
bromides and snow.
So fare ye well,
ye icy acres,
Fare well,
ye wailing ground.
Thanks,
O Greenland,
weary whalers, Our homeward bound.
The land was running free,
And the water sweetly blowing turned Toward the open sea.
So fare ye well, ye icy acres,
Fare well, ye wailing ground.
Six months we've been apart,
And the winter's gone to tee,
Through a hail of frozen flame.
