Thar She Blows

Hark! Thar, she blows, all might an’ spew,
a sixty-footer breachin’ through.
All hands on deck, thar’s much to do;
the hunt’s afoot, me hearty crew.

We’ll clear away, keep her in sight,
we’ll do as meant an’ keep it tight.
’Tis all or nowt, she could but fight,
for if she turns, God bless our plight.

She’ll rue this day, to that, amen,
we’ll show her, we Nantucket men.
We’ve struck afore, begad, again,
for brave we’ll face leviathan.

We’ll host no fear, know what’s at stake,
when bearin’ down, when on her wake.
Away the boats, let oarsmen take,
an’ pull like hell, an’ haste we’ll make.

Dare fail, me lad with that harpoon,
yer bearin’s honed an’ wits in tune.
A moment choose, yer focus hewn,
an’ on to us, a mighty boon.

If strike, you true, she’ll up an’ flee,
she’ll haul us too ’till weary, she.
When tuckered out, let lances free,
hence come what may, in profits, we.

We’ll flense her bare an’ blubber boil,

to cask we’ll store, her precious oil.

We’ll fill our jugs when thru our toil,

with rum to toast, the victor’s spoil.

To home, by star, by moon an’ sun,

what winds afford, we’ll earn our run.

An’ pray, nay squall wrecks what we’ve won,

from fathoms deep, keep all an’ one.

Hold out yer cheer ’till we make ground,

if comes that day, in wealth abound.

If nay, on what we’ve done, He’ll sound,

“Valhalla lost, but hades bound!”