John A. Walsh

A Whaler’s Lament circa 1850

Tomorrow at daybreak, I must take my leave dear.
I’m Atlantic bound
From the Nantucket Sound.

Out on that whaler I will be sailing
To where Leviathan’s found
Beyond the Nantucket Sound.

Thirst for the whale’s oil, will drive us out farther
North of Iceland and ‘round
Back to Nantucket Sound.

It may be two years’ hence before I return, love;
That’s if I haven’t drowned, back to this fisherman’s town
On the Nantucket Sound

We’ll harass the behemoth until it gives up its ghost to the blue
Then hunt 40-some more until the ship’s hull is full.

I can’t help but wonder if we’ll cull the great herd to the brink…
With such ravenous greed, will this bounty deplete?

Now if I could run from this life I am tied to,
You know I wouldn’t be found
Near the Nantucket Sound

I’d take you away, dear; far from this ocean
On to happiness found, to a much higher ground,
Than the Nantucket Sound

But, it’s all that I know – just like my Father before;
A treacherous toil, that, alas, I abhor.

I am indebted and to the paymaster enslaved.
So, what choice do I have but this harpooner’s trade?

Dear girl, come the morning, while you lay sleeping
‘Neath the warm eiderdown
I’ll be Atlantic bound
From the Nantucket Sound