(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