Oh my Donald he works on the sea

On the waves that blow wild and free

He splices the ropes and he sets the sails

While southward he rolls to the home of the whale 

And he ne'er thinks o' me far behind

Nor the torments that rage in my mind

He's mine for only part of the year

And I'm left all alone with only my tears



Ye ladies that smell of wild rose

Think ye for your perfume to where a man goes

Think ye o' the wives and the babies that yearn

For a man ne'er returning from hunting the sperm



My Donald he works on the sea

On the waves that blow wild and free

He splices the ropes and sets the sails

While southward he rolls to the home of the whale