Now, we did a heap o' riggin'
In those rough an' rowdy days,
When the wooden ships were buildin'
On their slanted timber ways;
Ships of every sort an' fashion,
Big an' little, lithe an' tall,
Were launched into the harbor,
An' we rigged 'em one an' all.

Then our riggin' was for sailors,
Tough an' hardy Bluenose dogs,
With their hands as tough as leather,
An' their boots with heavy clogs.
They might rant an' they might roar,
But they'd learned their business right,
An' they trusted to our riggin'
When the seas were rollin' white.

Just like fittin' out a maiden
For her happy weddin' day,
When we rigged a noble vessel
Lying anchored in the bay;
All her gear was new an' shiny,
Every ribbon taut an' trim,
An' she stood there when we finished,
Tall an' handsome, straight an' slim.

When at last she slipped her moorin',
An' she ghosted down the stream,
With her riggin' all aglowin',
An' her canvas all agleam;
How we cheered her to the heavens,
How our hearts were filled with pride,
As the ocean rose to meet her,
As a groom would greet his bride.

Some came back just as they left us,
Trim an' spotless, buoyant, free;
Others crept back to the harbor,
Scarred an' broken by the sea;
Those we nursed like tender mothers,
Mendin' canvas, rope an' spar;
Till once more we had 'em shinin'
Like some twinklin' mornin' star.

Now our riggin' days are over,
An' the past fades like a dream,
As we view the mighty changes
Brought about by wizard steam;
We are needed here no longer,
For there's little we can do—
May there still be work for riggers
In that Port beyond the blue.

Yes, we did a heap o' riggin'
In those rampin' boomin' days,
When the wooden ships were buildin'
On their quaint old greasy ways;
Crafts of every sort an' fashion,
Big an' little, lithe an' tall,
Had their birthplace by the harbor,
An' we rigged 'em one an' all.

Jacob's ladder wasn't in it
With the riggin' on those ships
From the trunnels an' the keelson
To the pointed royal tips;
That old ladder was for angels
Comin' down from up aloft,
With their wings an' gleamin' garments,
An' their hands all white an' soft.

Our riggin' was for sailors,
Tough an' hardy Bluenose dogs,
With their hands as hard as leather,
An' their boots thick heavy clogs.
They were nuthin' much like angels,
But they'd learned their business right,
An' they trusted to our riggin'
When the sea was roarin' white.

Seemed like fittin' out a maiden
For her happy weddin' day,
When we rigged a noble vessel,
Where she calm at anchor lay;
All her gear was new an' shiny,
Every ribbon taut an' trim,
An' she stood, when she was finished,
Tall an' handsome, straight an' slim.

When at last she slipped her moorin's,
An' slow-footed down the stream,
With her riggin' all aglowin',
An' her canvas all agleam,
How we cheered her to the echo,
An' our hearts thrilled high with pride,
As the ocean strode to meet her
For his own sea-royal bride.

Some came back just as they left us,
Trim an' spotless, buoyant, free;
Others crept up into harbor,
Scarred an' broken out at sea;
These we nursed like tender mothers,
Mendin' canvas, rope an' spar,
Till we had 'em all ashinin'
Like some twinklin' mornin' star.

But our riggin' days are over,
An' the past seems like a dream,
As we view the mighty changes
Brought about by wizard steam.
We are needed here no longer,
For there's nuthin' we can do—
Maybe there'll be work for riggers
In the Port beyond the blue.