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