A WHALING SONG.
PART OF A FAVORITE SONG SUNG BY WHALEMEN IN OLD TIMES.
When spring returns with western gales,
And gentle breezes sweep
The ruffling seas, we spread our sails
To plow the watery deep.
Cape Cod, our dearest native land,
We leave astern, and lose
Its sinking cliffs and less'ning sands,
While Zephyr gently blows.