Once again with the tide she slips her lines

turns her head and comes awake

where she lay so still there at privateer's wharf

now she quickly gathers way

she will range far south from the harbour mouth

and rejoice with every wave

who will know the bluenose in the sun

Feel her bow rise free of mother sea

in a sunburst cloud of spray

that stings the cheek while the rigging will speak

of sea-miles gone away

she is always best under full press

hard over as she'll lay

and who will know the bluenose in the sun?

That proud, fast queen of the grand banks fleet

portrayed on every dime

knew hard work in her time...hard work in every line

the rich men's toys of the gloucester boys

with their token bit of cod

they snapped their spars and strained to pass her by

but she left them all behind

Now her namesake remains to show what she has been

what every schoolboy remembers and will not come again

to think she's the last of the grand banks schooners

that fed so many men

and who will know the bluenose in the sun?

So does she not take wing like a living thing

child of the moving tide

see her pass with grace on the water's face

with clean and quiet pride

our own tall ship of great renown still lifts unto the sky

who will know the bluenose in the sun?