"...I soon got used to this singing, for the sailors never touched a rope without it. Sometimes, when no one happened to strike up, and the pulling, whatever it might be, did not seem to be getting forward very well, the mate would always say, 'Come men, can't any of you sing? Sing now and raise the dead.' And then some one of them would begin, and if every man's arms were as much relieved as mine by the song, and he could pull as much better as I did, with such a cheering accompaniment, I am sure the song was well worth the breath expended on it. It is a great thing in a sailor to know how to sing well, for he gets a great name by it from the officers, and a good deal of popularity among his shipmates. Some sea captains, before shipping a man, always ask him whether he can sing out at a rope."
-Herman Melville, Redburn, chapter 9 (1849)

Shanties are the work songs that were used on the square-rigged ships of the Age of Sail. Their rhythms coordinated the efforts of many sailors hauling on lines. Much loved by modern sailors and folk musicians, they are rarely used as work songs today. This is because modern rigging doesn't require many people to be working in the same rhythm for long periods.

Traditional shanties can be grouped into three types: short haul shanties, for tasks requiring quick pulls over a relatively short time; halyard shanties, for heavier work requiring more setup time between pulls; and capstan shanties, for long, repetitive tasks requiring a sustained rhythm, but not involving working the lines.

Andrew Rose, the British sailor
Now to you his woes I'll name
'Twas on the passage from Barbados
Whilst on board the Mary Jane.

Wasn't that most cruel usage
Without a friend to interpose?
How they've whipped and mangled,
Gagged and strangled
The British sailor, Andrew Rose.

'Twas on the quarter-deck they laid him,
Gagged him with an iron bar;
Wasn't that most cruel usage
To put upon a British tar?
Chorus:

'Twas up aloft the Captain sent him
Naked beneath the burning sun,
Whilst the mate did follow after,
Lashing him till the blood did run.
Chorus:

The captain gave him stuff to swallow;
Stuff to you I will not name,
Whilst the crew got sick with horror,
While on board the Mary Jane.
Chorus:

'Twas in a water-cask they put him;
Seven long days they kept him there.
When loud for mercy Rose did venture,
The Captain swore no man should go there.
Chorus:

For twenty days they did ill-use him,
When into Liverpool they arrived.
The Judge he heard young Andrew's story;
"Captain Rodgers, you must die."
Chorus:

Come all ye friends and near relations,
And all ye friends to interpose;
Never treat a British sailor
Like they did young Andrew Rose.
Chorus:

Come all ye young fellows that follows the sea
To me, way hey, blow the man down
Now please pay attention and listen to me
Give me some time to blow the man down

I'm a deep water sailor just come from Hong Kong
You give me some whiskey, I'll sing you a song

When a trim Black Ball liner's preparing for sea
On a trim Black Ball liner I wasted me prime

When a trim Black Ball liner preparing for sea
You'll split your sides laughing such sights you would see

There's tinkers and tailors, shoemakers and all
They're all shipped for sailors aboard the Black Ball

When a big Black Ball liner's a-leaving her dock
The boys and the girls on the pier-head do flock

Now, when the big liner, she's clear of land
Our bosun he roars out the word of command

Come quickly, lay aft to the break of the poop
Or I'll help you along with the toe of me boot

Pay attention to orders, now, you one and all
For see high above there flies the Black Ball

'Tis larboard and starboard, on deck you will sprawl
For kicking Jack Rogers commands the Black Ball

It was down in yonder meadow,
I carelessly did stray,
There I beheld a lady fair,
All with a sailor gay,
He said, My lovely fair maid,
I soon must leave this shore,
To cross the briny ocean
In a British Man-of-War.

2. Fair Susan fell to weeping,
Young sailor" she did say,
Oh do not be so venturesome,
As to throw your life away,
For when that I am twenty-one
I shall receive my store,
So I pray you do not venture
On a British Man-of-War.

3. Oh, Susan lovely Susan,
The truth to you I'll tell,
The British Flag insulted is,
All England knows it well,
I may be crowned with laurels,
All like some jolly tar,
So I'll face the walls of China
In a British Man-of-War.

4. Oh do not be so venturesome
As to face the cruel Chinese,
For they will prove as treacherous
As any Portugese,
And by some deadly dagger,
You may receive a scar,
So William do not venture
On a British Man-of-War.

5. Oh Susan lovely Susan,
The time will quickly pass.
Will you come to the Ferry-House
To take a parting glass?
For my ship-mates they are ready,
To row me from the shore,
And I'll fight for Englands' glory,
In a British Man-of-War.

6. Then he took out his handkerchief
And he tore it clean in two,
Saying, Take this dearest Susan
And I'll do the same by you.
When the bullets they surround me
And the cannons they do roar,
I'll fight for Fame and Susan
On a British Man-of-War.

Oh! The smartest packet ye can find,
Ah Hey! Ah Ho! Are you most done?
Is the Ol' "`Wildcat"' of the Swallowtail Line!
So clear away the track an' let the bulgine run!
Chorus:

To me Hey, Rig-a-jig, in a jaunting car!
Ah Hey! Ah Ho! Are you most done?
With Eliza Lee all on my knee,
So clear away the track an' let the bulgine run!

2. Oh! the Ol' ``Wildcat'' of the Swallowtail Line,
Ah Hey! Ah Ho! Are you most done?
She's never a day behind her time!
So clear away the track an' let the bulgine run!
Chorus:

3. O, we're outward bound for New York Town,
Ah Hey! Ah Ho! Are you most done?
Them bowery gals we'll waltz around.
So clear away the track an' let the bulgine run!
Chorus:

4. When we've stowed our freight at the West Street Pier,
Ah Hey! Ah Ho! Are you most done?
It's home to Liverpool then we'll steer.
So clear away the track an' let the bulgine run!
Chorus:

5. O, them bowery gals will give us fun,
Ah Hey! Ah Ho! Are you most done?
Chatham Street dives is home from home.
So clear away the track an' let the bulgine run!
Chorus:

6. When we all gets back to Liverpool town,
Ah Hey! Ah Ho! Are you most done?
I'll stand ye whiskies all around.
So clear away the track an' let the bulgine run!
Chorus:

7. O, heave a pawl -- o, bear a hand,
Ah Hey! Ah Ho! Are you most done?
Just one more pull and make her stand.
So clear away the track an' let the bulgine run!
Chorus:

8. O, when I gets home across the sea,
Ah Hey! Ah Ho! Are you most done?
Eliza, will you marry me?
So clear away the track an' let the bulgine run!
Chorus:

O, me Rosie, coal black rose
Don't ye hear the banjo
Ping-a-pong-a-pong?
On, me Rosie, Coal Black Rose!

2. O, me Rosie, coal black Rose,
Strung up like a banjo,
Allu taut an' long,
On, me Rosie, Coal Black Rose!

3. O, me Rosie, coal black Rose,
The yard is now a-movin',
Hauley-hauley ho!
On, me Rosie, Coal Black Rose!

4. The Mate be comes around, boys,
Dinging an'a dang.
Hauley-hauley ho!
On, me Rosie, Coal Black Rose!

5. Give her one more pull, boys,
Rock an' roll' er high.
Hauley-hauley ho!
On, me Rosie, Coal Black Rose!

I'm the man before the mast
That ploughs the raging sea
And on this simple subject
Will you please enlighten me
Common sailors we are called
Come tell me the reason why
And on this simple subject I'll reply

Don't you call us common sailors anymore
Don't you call us common sailors anymore
Good things to you we bring
Don't you call us common men
We're as good as anybody that's on shore

The young girls of this country
Their growing days we bless
We brings them silks and satins
Out of which they makes a dress
To gain the heart of some young man
As fancy dresses do
Don't never despise the sailor boys
That sails the ocean blue
The young gents of this country
They're sitting at their ease
Not thinking on the stormy nights
That we spent on the seas
We brings the leaves to make cigars
To decorate their face
They wouldn't call us common
If they were sometimes in our place
When speaking of a man ashore
We never hear you say
He's a common this or common that
Be his calling what it may
Be he a travelling tinker,
Or a scavanger, or a sweep
Then why call us common sailors
Who battle with the deep

Traditional heaving shanty

Although nowadays very well known, this shanty was only used in ships with very large crews, when it was possible to grasp a halyard and stamp away up the deck, the sail steadily ascending the mast, with all hands roaring out the song in unison. It is one of the oldest known Anglo-Saxon shanties, having been sung in the Indiamen of the Honorable John Company. It appears with music in Incidents of a Whaling Voyage(1839) by Olmstead. The tune is from a traditional Irish air.

It was one of the very few work songs permitted in the smaller ships of the "King's Navee." In merchant ships of later years, with small crews, its usage was confined to the job of going "'bout ship" when the braces would be manned and stamped away with, or when hoisting light sails hand over hand; in this latter chore only the chorus would be sung.

What shall we do with a drunken sailor?
What shall we do with a drunken sailor?
What shall we do with a drunken sailor?
Early in the morning?

Way-hay, up she rises
Way-hay, up she rises
Way-hay, up she rises
Early in the morning

Put him in the long boat 'til he's sober

Pull out the bung and wet him all over

Put him in the scuppers with the deck pump on him

Heave him by the leg in a runnin' bowlin'

Tie him to the taffrail when she's yard-arm under

'Way, hay, an' up she ris-es! Pat-ent blocks o' diff'rent siz-es,
'Way, hay, an' up she ris-es! Ear-lye in the morn-in'!
What shall we do wi' a drunk-en sail-or? What shall we do wi' a drunk-en sail-or?
What shall we do wi' a drunk-en sail-or? Ear-lye in the morn-in'!

Put him in the long-boat, till he gets sober.

Keep him there an' make him bale her.

Trice him up in a runnin' bowline.

Tie him to the taffrail when she's yardarm under.

Put him in the scuppers with a hawse-pipe on him

Take him, an' shake him, an' try an' wake him.

Scrape the hair off his chest with a hoop-iron razor.

What shall we do with a drunken soldier?

Put him in the barrack-room till he gets sober.

Put him in bed with the captain's daughter
         *the "captain's daughter" is the cat o'nine tails

Give 'im a taste of the captain's daughter.

Make him sleep with the captain's daughter.

Put 'im in the cabin with the captain's daughter

There she goes, swingin' through the rigging...

Looks just like an orangutang......Earlie in the mornin'!

Give him a dose of salt and water...

Shave his belly with a rusty razor...

Give 'im a dose of salt and water.

Give 'im a taste of the bosun's rope-end.

Stick on 'is back a mustard plaster.

Put 'im in the bilge an make 'im drink it.

Temperance lectures will never save him

Give the hair of the dog what bite 'em

But you ain't SEEN the dog what bite 'em

Better looking than the Captain's Daughter!"

Make 'im kiss the gunner's daughter
         ** the "gunner's daughter" is being tied to the barrel of the cannon while they fire it four or five times.

Shove a lobster down his britches.

Shave his back and knit a sweater

Tie 'im to an anchor an' heave him over

Set him polishing up the brasswork

Lock him in a room full of bagpipe music!

What'll we do with a Limejuice skipper?

Soak him in oil till he sprouts a flipper.

Long Drag Shanty

Away, haul away,
Oh, haul away together,
Away, haul away,
Oh, haul away, Joe!

When I was a little lad,
My mother told me,
Away, haul away,
Oh, haul away together,
That if I did not kiss the girls
My lips would grow mouldy
Away, haul away,
Oh, haul away, Joe!

So first I had a Spanish girl
But she was fat and lazy,
Away, haul away,
Oh, haul away together,
But now I've got an Irish girl
And she nearly drives me crazy.
Away, haul away,
Oh, haul away, Joe!

Away, haul away,
Oh, haul away together,
Away, haul away,
Oh, haul away, Joe!

King Louis was the king of France
Before the revolution,
Away, haul away,
Oh, haul away together,
But the people chopped his head off
Which spoiled his constitution
Away, haul away,
Oh, haul away, Joe!

Away, haul away,
Oh, haul away together,
Away, haul away,
Oh, haul away, Joe!

Traditional - Lyrics from Capstan Bars, by David Bone

Haul on th' bowlin',
Th' ship she is a ro-o-lin'.
Haul on th' bowlin',
Th' bowlin', haul!

Haul on th' bowlin',
We'll either break or bend it.
Haul on th' bowlin',
Th' bowlin', haul!

Haul on th' bowlin',
We're men enough t' me-end it.
Haul on th' bowlin',
Th' bowlin', haul!

Haul on th' bowlin',
Another pull t'ge-ether.
Haul on th' bowlin',
Th' bowlin', haul!

Haul on th' bowlin',
An' burst th' chafin' le-ea-ther.
Haul on th' bowlin',
Th' bowlin', haul!

Traditional - Lyrics from The Music of the Waters, by Laura Smith

Haul on the bowlin', the fore and main-top bowlin',
Haul on the bowlin', the bowlin, Haul.

Haul on the bowlin', the packet she's a rollin',
Haul on the bowlin', the bowlin, Haul.

Haul on the bowlin', the captain he's a growlin',
Haul on the bowlin', the bowlin, Haul.

Traditional

There were two lofty ships
From old England came
Blow high, blow low
And so sail we
One was the Prince of Luther
The other Prince of Wales
All a-cruisin' down the coast
Of High Barbary

"Aloft there, aloft there"
Our jolly bosun cried
"Look ahead, look astern,
Look to weather an' a-lee"

"There's naught upon the stern, sir
There's naught upon our lee
But there's a lofty ship to wind'ard
An' she's sailin' fast and free"

"Oh hail her, oh hail her"
Our gallant captain cried
"Are you a man-o-war
Or a privateer?" cried he

"Oh, I'm not a man-o-war
Nor privateer," said he
"But I am salt sea pirate
All a-looking for me fee"

For Broadside, for broadside
A long time we lay
'Til at last the Prince of Luther
Shot the pirate's mast away

"Oh quarter, oh quarter"
Those pirates they did cry
But the quarter that we gave them
Was we sank 'em in the sea

Oh, have you heard the news, me Johnny
One more day
We're homeward bound tomorrow
One more day
Only one more day, me Johnny
One more day
Oh, rock and roll me over
One more day

Don't you hear the old man growlin'
Don't you hear the mate a howlin'

Don't you hear the caps'n pawlin'
Don't you hear the pilot bawlin'

Only one more day a-howlin'
Can't you hear the gals a-callin'

Only one more day a-rollin'
Can't you hear the gulls a-callin'

Only one more day a-furlin'
Only one more day a-cursin'

Oh, heave and sight the anchor, Johnny
For we're close aboard the port, Johnny

Only one more day for Johnny
And your pay-day's nearly due, Johnny

Then put out your long-tail blue, Johnny
Make your port and take your pay, Johnny

Only one more day a-pumpin', Johnny
Only one more day a-bracin'

Oh, we're homeward bound today, Johnny
We'll leave her without sorrow, Johnny

Pack your bags today me Johnny
Oh, an' leave her where she lies, Johnny

Only one more day a-workin', Johnny
Oh, come rock 'n' roll me over

No more gales or heavy weather
Only one more day together

It's a damn tough life full of toil and strife
We whalermen undergo
And we don't give a damn when the gale is done
How hard the winds do blow
We're homeward bound from the Arctic Sound
With a good ship taut and free
And we don't give a damn when we drink our rum
With the girls of Old Maui

Rolling down to Old Maui, me boys
Rolling down to Old Maui
We're homeward bound from the Arctic Ground

Once more we sail with a Northerly gale
Through the ice, and wind, and rain
Them coconut fronds, them tropical lands
We soon shall see again
Six hellish months we passed away
On the cold Kamchatka sea
But now we're bound from the Arctic ground

Rolling down to Old Maui

Once more we sail the Northerly gale
Towards our Island home
Our mainmast sprung, our whaling done
And we ain't got far to roam
Our stans'l booms is carried away
What care we for that sound
A living gale after us
Thank God we're homeward bound
How soft the breeze through the island trees
Now the ice is far astern
Them native maids, them tropical glades
Is awaiting our return
Even now their big, brown eyes look out
Hoping some fine to see
Our baggy sails running 'fore the gales

Rolling down to Old Maui

We'll heave the lead where old Diamond Head
Looms up on old Wahu
Our masts and yards are sheathed with ice
And our desks are hid from view
The horrid ice of the sea-caked isles
That deck the Arctic sea
Are miles behind in the frozen wind
Since we steered for Old Maui
And now we're anchoured in the bay
With the Kanakas all around
With chants and soft aloha-oos
They greet us homeward bound
And now ashore we'll have good fun
We'll paint them beaches red
Awakening in the arms of an island maid
With a big fat aching head

A is the anchor that holds a bold ship,
B is the bowsprit that often does dip,
C is the capstan on which we do wind, and
D is the davits on which the jolly boat hangs.

Chorus:
Oh, hi derry, hey derry, ho derry down,
Give sailors their grog and there's nothing goes wrong,
So merry, so merry, so merry are we,
No matter who's laughing at sailors at sea.

2. E is the ensign, the red, white, and blue,
F is the fo'c'sle, holds the ship's crew,
G is the gangway on which the mate takes his stand,
H is the hawser that seldom does strand.
Chorus:

3. I is the irons where the stuns'l boom sits,
J is the jib-boom that often does dip,
K are the keelsons of which you've told, and
L are the lanyards that always will hold.
Chorus:

4. M is the main mast, so stout and so strong,
N is the north point that never points wrong,
O are the orders of which we must be'ware, and
P are the pumps that cause sailors to swear.
Chorus:

5. Q is the quadrant, the sun for to take,
R is the riggin' that always does shake,
S is the starboard side of our bold ship, and
T are the topmasts that often do split.
Chorus:

6. U is the ugliest old Captain of all,
V are the vapours that come with the squall,
W is the windlass on which we do wind, and
X, Y, and Z, well, I can't put in rhyme!
Chorus:

In South Australia I was born
To me heave away, haul away
In South Australia round Cape Horn
We're bound for South Australia

Haul away you rolling kings
To me heave away, haul away
Haul away, you'll hear me sing
We're bound for South Australia

As I walked out one morning fair
'Twas there I met Miss Nancy Blair

I shook her up and I shook her down
I shook her round and round the town

I run her all night and I run her all day
And I run her until we sailed away

There ain't but one thing grieves me mind
To leave Miss Nancy Blair behind

And as we wallop around Cape Horn
You'll wish to God you'd never been born

In South Australia my native land
Full of rocks and thieves and fleas and sand

I wish I was on Australia's strand
With a bottle of whiskey in my hand

a pumping shanty

Aft on the quarterdeck
Walking about
There is the second mate
So sturdy and so stout
What he is thinking of
He only knows himself
Oh, we wish that he would hurry up
And strike, strike the bell

Strike the bell, second mate
Let us go below
Look away to windward
You can see it's going to blow
Look at the glass
You can see that it is fell
We wish the you would hurry up
And strike, strike the bell

Down on the maindeck
Working at the pumps
There is the larboard watch
Ready for their bunks
Over to windward
They see a great swell
They're wishing that the second mate
Would strike, strike the bell

Aft at the wheel
Poor Anderson stands
Grasping the spokes
In his cold, mittened hands
Looking at the compass
The coarse is clear as hell
He's wishing that the second mate
Would strike, strike the bell

For'ad in the fo'c'sle head
Keeping sharp lookout
There is Johnny standing
Ready for to shout
"Lights' burning bright, sir
And everything is well"
He's wishing that the second mate
Would strike, strike the bell

Aft on the quarterdeck
The gallant captain stands
Looking to windward
With his glasses in his hand
What he is thinking of
We know very well
He's thinking more of shortening sail
Than strike, strike the bell

Traditional cotton screwing shanty

Whup Jamboree, whup jamboree
Oh a long-tailed sailor man comin' up behind
Whup Jamboree, whup jamboree
Come an' get your oats me son

The pilot he looked out ahead
The hands on the cane and the heavin' of the lead
And the old man roared to wake the dead
Come and get your oats me son

Oh, now we see the lizzard light
Soon, me boys, we'll heave in sight
We'll soon be abreast of the Isle of Wight
Come and get your oats me son

Now when we get to the black wall dock
Those pretty young girls come out in flocks
With short-legged drawers and long-tailed frocks
Come and get your oats me son

Wel,, then we'll walk down limelight way
And all the girls will spend our pay
We'll not see more 'til another day
Come and get your oats me son