MacEdward Leach and the Songs of Atlantic Canada
AII Gone
John Conway NFLD 2 Tape 21A Track 6
(St. Shott's?) Audio:

Gone are the days of the canvas jumpers
The _______ pipes and the penny ________
And where oh where is them oiled skin trouser
That fitted snugly around the hips

Where is the gansey webbin' _____________
Where are three quarter and blucher shoes
Where are the old time sealing skippers
Whose course to the white-coats was always true

Gone are the men who did command them
Gone are the crews with courage bold
Who trod the pans like fearless heroes
Whose deeds of daring were never told

Gone yes gone is the six-foot musket
The old reliable flint and steel
Gone is the well carved powder horn
Likewise our Granny's spinning wheel

Gone are the Petty Harbour whaleboats
Clinker built from deck to keel
With fore and mainsail jib and staysail
Its out to the breeze did gently yield

They'd beat the motion in any weather
As 'round Cape Spear they proudly sped
But times have changed they're gone forever
All these old skippers they now are dead

Gone, yes gone is the boats of Ferryland
Where _______________________
Gone yes gone is the _______________

(Speaks) God I'm wrong there.

Where oh where is the boats of Ferryland
Where is now the blue _________ hens
Gone alas to the land of has-been
All these old skippers they now are dead

Where oh now is the old boat "Ellen"
Steered back and forth by that skipper true
Brave Stephen Kane a Southern Shore man
Who showed his heels to the old curlew

With a stiff sou'wester tis then he'd test her
Hove out to an angle of forty-five
Bound down the shores with a load of codfish
On scheduled time he would arrive

Gone are the days of the open fireplace
With hooks and hangers overhead
Gone yes gone is the iron bake pot
The granny who used it to bake the bread

I can vision her now with her cap and apron
As before the fire she took her stand
And the branch she lifted and deftly shifted
And often times she would burn her hand

And then the bellows the two sides were fellows
As she fanned the fire into a flame
Her kind old face and silvery tresses
Are now but mem'ries which still remain

Gone are the days of the var bough arches
Whose decorations was surely grand
Gone are the days of society marches
Led gaily on by Bennett's band

Where are the joy guns resounding loudly
By the hands of the boys of Casey's lane
Gone are those days and the actors with them
We ne'er shall see the same again


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