So, be cheery, my lads! may your hearts never fail!

While the bold harpooner is striking the whale!

Our captain stood upon the deck, A spy-glass in his hand, A viewing of those gallant whales That blew at every strand. Oh, your tubs in your boats, my boys, And by your braces stand, And we’ll have one of those fine whales, Hand, boys, over hand! So, be cheery, my lads! may your hearts never fail! While the bold harpooner is striking the whale!

Mate’s voice from the quarterdeck .

Eight bells there, forward!