The world may show, than Newfoundland, More fertile scenes and fair, More brilliant skies and sunnier shores A warmer, balmier air. But happy in our snow-clad Isle No Ministerial band, No Foreigner, shall drive us forth Our home in Newfoundland. We’ve given the Frenchman bait to fish To which he has no right, And given him a friend’s right hand, And help him day and night. But he! - ungrateful, in the dark Has sought our ruin now; Would steal our bait, our land, our fish, And starve our children too. Yet worse than guileful Frenchmen, come Our own to lay us low, Bid us forsake our cherished home, And force us thence to go. Yes! Britain’s power destroys our Rights, By fools or traitors led, And yields to grasping foreigners Her distant children’s bread. But up Newfoundland’s hardy sons! And shout to England’s Queen! And to the British Parliament! That ever stood between Th’oppressor and th’oppressed of yore Nor will desert us now; For never to the Tri-colour The British flag shall bow.
Posted on: Sun, 17 Aug 2014 00:56:50 +0000
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