From The Recordings Html
The Diamond is a ship, my lads, for the Davis Strait we're bound,
And the quay it is all garnished with bonny lasses 'round.
Captain Thompson gives the order to sail the ocean wide,
Where the sun it never sets, my lads, nor darkness dims the sky.
And it's cheer up my lads, let your hearts never fail,
For the bonny ship, the Diamond, goes a-hunting for the whale.
Along the quay at Peterhead, the lasses stand around,
Their shawls all pulled about them and the salt tears running down.
Now don't you weep, my bonny lass, though you be left behind,
For the rose will grow on Greenland's ice before we change our mind.
Here's a health to the Resolution, likewise the Eliza Swan,
Three cheers to the Battler of Montrose and the Diamond, ship of fame.
We wear the trousers of the white, the jackets of the blue,
When we get back to Peterhead, we'll have sweethearts anoo
It will be bright both day and night when the whaling lads come home,
Our a ship full up with oil, my boys, and money to our name.
We'll make the cradles for to rock and the blankets for to tear,
And every lass in Peterhead sing, “Hushabye, my dear.”