Blow Ye Winds In The Morning

(a.k.a. "Boston, All Come Ye", "Boston, Come-Ye-All" & "Blow, Boys, Blow)"

Words & Music:



Chords courtesy of  There are subtle variations to the words with every version I see & hear.  Here is one of them.  The "Boston Come-Ye-All" version is supposed to substitute "Come all you bold Americans, a-whalin' for to go." for the second line of verse one.  This song tells a truer tale of antebellum newbie seafaring life than most bowdlerized tales do.



'Tis advertised in Boston, New York, and Buffalo:

C                               G              D

"Five hundred brave Americans a-whalin' for to go."




Singing, "Blow ye winds in the morning, blow ye winds, high-ho!

C               G                      D     G

Clear away your runnin' gear and blow, boys, blow!"

[alt: "And blow, ye winds high-ho!"]


They send you to New Bedford, that famous whaling port,

And give you to some land sharks to board and fit you out.




They send you to a boardin' house, there for a time to dwell;

The thieves there they are thicker than the other side of Hell.




They tell you of the clipper ships a-runnin' in and out,

And say you'll take five hundred sperm before you're six months out.




It's now we're out to sea, me boys, the wind comes on to blow;

One-half the watch is sick on deck, the other half below.



But, as for provisions, we donÕt get half enough.

A little piece of stinking beef and a blamed small bag of duff.




Next, comes the running rigging which youÕre all supposed to know.

Lay aloft, you son of a gun, or overboard youÕll go.




The skipper's on the quarterdeck a-squintin' at the sails,

When up aloft the lookout spots a mighty school of whales.




Now, clear away the boats, me boys, and after him we'll travel,

But if you get too near his fluke, he'll kick you to the Devil.




Now, we've got the whale turned up, me boys, we'll bring 'im alongside,

Then over with our blubber-hooks and rob him of his hide.




Now, comes the stowing down, my boy, 'twill take both night and day.

You'll all get two bits after six months to the day.




When we get home, our ship made fast, when we get through our sailin',

A brimming glass around we'll pass, and damn this blubber whalin'.





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