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The sun it comes up on the green fields of Newfoundland,
On Vancouver Island, he sheds his last ray;
The great Arctic Circle reflects back his glory,
The wheat-laden plains grow more golden each day.
This is my own land so fertile and beautiful,
Majestic her mountains, her rivers run free;
Priviledged the children, who call her their homeland,
Canada, my own land for ever you'll be.
Proud are the people who travel your highways,
The farmer, the teacher, the factory hand;
The merchant, the miner, the doctor, the fisherman,
Proud to belong to this beautiful land.
This is my own land so fertile and beautiful,
Majestic her mountains, her rivers run free;
Priviledged the children, who call her their homeland,
Canada, my own land for ever you'll be.
Famed is your power and famed is your gentleness,
Your bounty is endless from sea to shining sea;
Your arms ever open to help those less fortunate,
A bright light of freedom to those who would be free.
This is my own land so fertile and beautiful,
Majestic her mountains, her rivers run free;
Priviledged the children, who call her their homeland,
Canada, my own land for ever you'll be.
