[Caroline Lavelle] Oh my love he works upon the sea On the waves that blow wild and free He splices the ropes and he sets the sail While southwards he roams to the home of the whale And he ne'er thinks of me far behind Or the torments that rage in my mind He is mine for only part of the year Then I'm left all alone with only my tears All ye ladies that smell of white rose Thank ye for your perfume to wear on my gold Thank ye all the wives and the babies that yearn For the man ne'er returns from hunting the sperm (whale) Oh my love he works upon the sea On the waves that blow wild and free He splices the ropes and he sets the sail While southwards he roams to the home of the whale
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