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Rolling Down to Old Mohee 
Rolling Down to Old Mohee 
Once more we are waft by the Northern gales Bounding over the main, And now the hills of the tropic isles We soon shall see again. Five sluggish moons have waxed and waned Since from the shore sailed we, Now we are bound from the Arctic ground Rolling down to old Mohee. Now we are bound from the Arctic ground Rolling down to old Mohee. 
Through many a blow of frost and snow And bitter squalls of hail, Our spars were bent and our canvas rent As we braved the northern gale. The horrid isles of ice cut tiles That deck the Arctic sea, Are many, many leagues astern As we sail to old Mohee. 
Through many a gale of snow and hail Our good ship bore away And in the midst of the moonbeam's kiss We slept in St. Lawrence Bay. And many a day we whiled away In the bold Kamchatka Sea And we'll think of that as we laugh and chat With the girls of old Mohee. 
An ample share of toil and care We whalemen undergo; But when it's over, what care we How the bitter blast may blow. We are homeward bound, that joyful sound, And yet it may not be, But we'll think of that as we laugh and chat With the girls of old Mohee. 
From Gale Huntington's book- Songs the Whalemen Sang. Collected from logbook of Ship Atkins Adams 1858. Huntington says that the tune comes from Harlow- Chanteying Aboard American Ships; also 
 thinks he heard it sung to tune of "The Bowery", but isn't sure. As he points out,"This is a nice song." See also MAUI (Hugill's version)