Far away from my forest home,
In the land of the stranger I must roam;
And sigh amid flowers and trailing vines,
For mine own rude land of lakes and pines.
And I long — O, how I long to be
In mine own Dominion of the free —
Ontario! Ontario!
In mine own Dominion of the free —
Ontario!
The old school-house, is it standing still?
Do the pines still hang o'er the old saw-mill?
Is the maple tree still fresh and green,
That over our old log-house doth lean?
Ah! back to them all, I fain would be
In mine own Dominion of the free —
Ontario! Ontario!
In mine own Dominion of the free —
Ontario!
And does the blue-bird, in the Spring
Come to it, as of old, to sing?
And 'mong its branches build her nest,
And rear its young ones in its breast?
O, had I wings like her, I'd flee
To mine own Dominion of the free —
Ontario! Ontario!
To mine own Dominion of the free —
Ontario!
And what, tho' many do forget,
There's still one there that loves me yet!
I see her form, I see her face —
I hear her voice in every place!
And backward still, she beckons me
To mine own Dominion of the free —
Ontario! Ontario!
To mine own Dominion of the free —
Ontario!
And still, as a knock comes to the door,
Tho' disappointed ten times o'er,
She runs — but to find her hopes are vain,
Of her wand'ring Billy back again:
And back to her breast, I fain would flee,
And mine own Dominion of the free —
Ontario! Ontario!
And mine own Dominion of the free —
Ontario!