Canada, My Land.

    There may be more enchanting climes
        Within a southern zone;
    There may be eastern Edens deckt
        With charms to thee unknown;
    But thou art fairest unto me,
        Because thou art mine own,
            Canada, my land.

    More spacious plains and loftier heights
        In other realms may be,
    And mightier streams than those which bear
        Thy waters to the sea;
    But thou, great handiwork of God,
        Art grandest unto me,
            Canada, my land.

    More glorious records may adorn
        The annals of the past
    Than those which tell the rise and growth
        Of thy dominion vast;
    But I am proudest of the land
        In which my lot is cast,
            Canada, my land.

    Beneath thy green or snow-clad sod
        My fathers' ashes lie;
    Thou hast my all, to thee I'm bound
        By every dearest tie;
    For thee I'll gladly live, for thee
        I cheerfully would die,
            Canada, my land.