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.