On the twenty-third of March, my boys, We hoisted our topsail, Crying, 'Heav'n above protect us With a sweet and a pleasant gale.' We never was down-hearted Nor let our courage fail But bore away up to Greenland For to catch the Greenland whale, For to catch the Greenland whale. And when we came to Greenland Where the bitter winds did blow, We tacked about all in the north Among the frost and snow. Our finger-tops were frozen off, And likewise our toe-nails, As we crawled on the deck, my boys, Looking out for the Greenland whale Looking out for the Greenland whale. And when we came to Davis Strait Where the mountains flowed with snow, We tacked about all in the north Till we heard the whalefish blow. And when we catch that whale, brave boys, Homeward we will steer. We'll make them valleys ring, my boys, A-drinking of strong beer. We'll make them lofty alehouses In London town to roar; And when our money is all gone, To Greenland go for more, To Greenland go for more.