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Happy Wanderer

In this song, the last line of the previous verse is added at the end of the chorus. It is in italics below. The first time the chorus is sung, it would be “knapsack on my back,” but the second time the line would be “come join my happy song.”

I love to go a-wandering,
Along the mountain track,
And as I go, I love to sing,
My knapsack on my back.

Val-der-ri, val-der-ra
Val-der-ri, val-der-ra ha ha ha ha ha
Val-der-ri, val-der-ra
My knapsack on my back.*

I love to wander by the stream,
That dances in the sun,
So joyously it calls to me,
Come join my happy song.


I wave my hat to all I meet,
And they wave back at me,
And blackbirds call so loud and clear,
From every greenwood tree.


Oh, may I go a-wandering,
Until the day I die,
And may I always laugh and sing,
Beneath God’s clear blue sky.



Woodsmoke Song

With the scent of woodsmoke drifting on the air,
And the glow of firelight we always love to share,
Visions of camp-fires all return,
And as the logs flame up and burn,
We dream of bygone campfires and long for those to come.

Tongues of yellow fire flickering up on high,
Reaching twisting fingers up to a starlit sky,
Voices recall songs old and new,
Songs once dear to our fathers too,
Who dreamed of bygone campfires and longed for those to come.

Gently dying embers cast a rosy glow,
Voices slowly sinking to tones so soft and low,
Slowly upon the still night air,
Fall faithful voices hushed in prayer,
That dream of bygone campfires and long for those to come.

An Iroquois Lullaby

 Ho ho watanay
Ho ho watanay
Ho ho watanay
Ki yo ke na
Ki yo ke na

Au Claire De La Lune

 Please forgive my abysmal French. I tried my best! French isn’t my first language.

“Au clair de la lune,
Mon ami Pierrot,
Prête-moi ta plume
Pour écrire un mot.
Ma chandelle est morte,
Je n’ai plus de feu.
Ouvre-moi ta porte
Pour l’amour de Dieu.”

Au clair de la lune,
Pierrot répondit :
“Je n’ai pas de plume,
Je suis dans mon lit.
Va chez la voisine,
Je crois qu’elle y est,
Car dans sa cuisine
On bat le briquet.”

Au clair de la lune,
L’aimable Lubin;
Frappe chez la brune,
Elle répond soudain :
–Qui frappe de la sorte?
Il dit à son tour :
–Ouvrez votre porte,
Pour le Dieu d’Amour.

Au clair de la lune,
On n’y voit qu’un peu.
On chercha la plume,
On chercha du feu.
En cherchant d’la sorte,
Je n’sais c’qu’on trouva;
Mais je sais qu’la porte
Sur eux se ferma.

Farewell to Nova Scotia

So Farewell to Nova Scotia,
Your seabound coast,
Let your mountains dark and dreary be,
For when I am far away,
On the briny ocean tossed,
Will you ever heave a sigh or a wish for me?

The sun was setting in the west,
The birds were singing on every tree,
All nature seemed inclined to rest,
But still there was no rest for me.


I grieve to leave my native land,
I grieve to leave my comrades all,
And my parents whom I love so dear,
And the bonny bonny lass that I do adore.


The drums do beat and the wars do alarm,
The Captain calls we must obey,
So farewell, farewell to Nova Scotia’s charms,
For it’s early in the morning, I am far far away.


I have three brothers and they are at rest,
Their arms are folded on their breast,
While a poor simple sailor just like me,
Must be tossed and driven o’er the dark blue sea.


Island Hymn

 Fair Island of the sea,
We raise our song to thee,
The bright and the blest.

Loyally now we stand,
As brothers, hand in hand,
And sing God save the land,
We love the best.

Upon or princely Isle,
May kindest fortune smile,
In coming years.

Peace and prosperity,
In all her borders be,
From every evil free,
And weakling fears.

Prince Edward Isle, to thee
Our hearts shall faithful be,
Where’er we dwell.

Forever may we stand,
As brothers, hand in hand,
And sing God save the land,
We love so well.

Ballad of the Bluenose

Well now gather ’round and I’ll tell you true,
‘Bout the ghost of a legend and the waters she’s been through,
Out of Lunenburg she was born to fame,
With her crew unsung, never to complain,
She was lightning on the wind the Bluenose was her name.

Barely one year old when she had her way,
Outsailed the finest ships in Nova Scotia of the day,
And the word had spread and by fall she’d be,
With her mainsail high, through the wind and waves,
Sailing home from Gloucester hailed the fastest of the sea.

So fare thee well, now be on your way,
Fare thee well with the light of day,
Fare thee well through the mist and sea,
Sail your way home to me.

More than ninety-nine tons she displaced with ease,
And she proved the greatest miracle to ever catch a breeze,
But still every year she would earn her keep,
Where the Grand Banks heave and the storms contrive,
She would fill her hold with bounty of the deep.

Well the decades glide and her prowess grew,
And long the list of schooners who could never follow through,
But as time drew on and with bills to pay,
Sad misfortune led to the southern sea,
And now her papers read, “West Indies Trading Company.”


“Twas a cruel day back in forty-six,
Just off the coast of Haiti was the devil playing tricks,
On an unmarked reef underneath the blue,
There she came to rest, lying brave and true,
A thousand miles or more from where her dreams were cast anew.

Then from Lunenburg down to Gloucester town,
And all across the ocean to her northern fishing ground,
For that one long day, yea the wind stood still,
As the rigging creaked, you could feel her pain,
Like a ghostly voice was echoing that Bluenose was her name.


The Land of New Brunswick

 If you want peace of mind, leave your worries far behind.
Won’t you come back with me to that land down by the sea?
Where the tall timbers, in the valleys green below,
Reaching up to the hills of New Brunswick.

With the sweet breath of springtime, the smell of new mown hay,
Leaves that turn to red and gold and snow on Christmas Day.
There is kindness to spare, you’ll be welcome to a share,
Of the love and the Land of New Brunswick.

Ode to Newfoundland

When sun rays crown thy pine clad hills,
And summer spreads her hand,
When silvern voices tune thy rills,
We love thee smiling land.

We love thee,
We love thee,
We love thee smiling land.

When spreads thy cloak of shimmering white,
At winter’s stern command,
Through shortened day and starlit night,
We love thee frozen land.

We love thee,
We love thee,
We love thee frozen land.

When blinding storm gusts fret thy shore,
And wild waves lash thy strand,
Through spin drift swirl and tempest roar,
We love thee windswept land.

We love thee,
We love thee,
We love thee windswept land.

As loved our fathers so we love,
Where once they stood we stand,
Their prayers we raise to heaven above,
God guard thee Newfoundland.

God guard thee,
God guard thee,
God guard thee Newfoundland.

Ging Gang Gooli

This song was originally written by Lord Baden Powell as a song all Scouts and Guides around the world could sing together because the lyrics were gibberish and not restricted to a mother tongue.

Ging gang gooli gooli gooli gooli watcha,
Ging gang goo,
Ging gang goo,
Ging gang gooli gooli gooli gooli watcha,
Ging gang goo,
Ging gang goo.

Hey la,
Hey la shay la,
Hey la shay la hey la ho oh!
Hey la,
Hey la shay la,
Hey la shay la hey la

Golly, Golly, Golly, Golly, Golly, Golly, Golly, Golly,
Oompa, oompa, oompa, oompa.

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