Oh my Donald he works upon 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 of 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

 Oh you ladies that smell of wild rose
 Think you of the perfume to where the man goes
 Think you of the wives and the babies that yearn
 For the man ne'er returns from hunting the whale

 Oh my Donald he works upon 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