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From England's West Country and Ireland's many counties,
Working hard there were those who starved
When nature proved unkind;
No slaves nor servants with them,
Children men and women sharing loads on common roads
To service of mankind.
So let's sing of the forest and the men that came before us,
With an iron will they worked until their work on earth was done;
So let's sing of the Saunders, the Sweetapples, and Arnolds,
The toils of men which never end get passed onto their sons.
My grandfather died early, there was never one more sure he,
Guaranteed eternity he was givin' onto God;
He kept his family healthy like most they were not wealthy,
And though they seen adversity they smiled through all odds.
So let's sing of the ski mills, the lumber and the steel,
The logs they brang, the blades that rang our song is yet unsung;
And let's sing of the Burrys, the Smarts, the Strouds, and Barrys,
Persistence stood with water and wood, and the heritage was won.
So let's sing of the schooners and the skiffs that haul the booms,
All boats relied on width and tide, their trust in stars and sun;
And let's sing of their courage, knowledge, and endurance,
Of the ways of men that sing and bend, let's share it with our sons,
Of the ways of men that sing and bend, let's share it with our sons.
