O it was a fine and a pleasant day,
Out of Yarmouth harbour I was faring,
As a cabinboy on a sailing lugger,
For to go and hunt the shoals of herring.

O the work was hard and the hours long,
And the treatment, sure it took some bearing.
There was little kindness and the kicks were many,
As we hunted for the shoals of herring.

O we fished the Swarth and the Broken Bank,
I was cook and I'd a quarter sharing.
And I used to sleep standing on my feet,
And I'd dream about the shoals of herring.

O we left the home grounds in the month of June,
And to Canny Shiels we soon were bearing.
With a hundred cran of silver darlings,
That we'd taken from the shoals of herring.

Now you're up on deck, you're a fisherman,
You can swear and show a manly bearing,
Take your turn on watch with the other fellows,
While you're searching for the shoals of herring.

In the stormy seas and the living gales,
Just to earn your daily bread you're daring.
From the Dover Straits to the Faroe Isles,
As you're following the shoals of herring.