I' M going back to Canada,
To roam the roads of white,
Where those old hills so dear to me
Rise up to reach the night.

I'll see the little lonely lake
Asleep amid the hills
Whose solitude will re-awake,
The rapture absence stills.

And one there is who waits for me,
Beyond the sunset's flare;
O, one there is I'll haste to see,
Warm sunlight on her hair.

O she will come with wistful eyes
Along the well worn path;
For us the future will arise
A glorious aftermath.

So I'll go back to Canada,
If God thus wills it so,
As weary travellers return
To lands of long ago.