You sailed the cold waters f the great Northern Bays The ice in your rigging and your rail in the waves And the snow in your canvas like a winter-gull's wing Oh, Lord, all the times you've been through. And now you've got hard times and now you lie still And you're fast to the anchor and chain Broken and tired and the winds pass you by But you're bound to go sailing again. You sailed out of Boothbay on the soft Southern swell Wind on your quarter, your bows rose and fell So many remember so much more than they'll tell (sic) Of the hardest of times you've been through. Greenland and Baffin and the white Labrador In the winds and the terrible snow When they carried their icepicks just to bring you about In the light from the lantern below. And now... So rest, lady, rest from the fog and the gales, Let the harbor protect you and the wind dry your sails And a hundred old sailors tell their foggiest tales Of all the hard times you've been through. And we'll see your masts mingle with the spruces and pines And we'll bow as we all pass you by For a boat is more patient than a sailor can be With the sun and the wind in his eye... And now...