I

 Where's your kingdom, little king? Where the land you call your own, Where your palace and your throne? Fluttering lightly on the wing Through the blossom-world of May, Whither lies your royal way, Little king?

Where's your kingdom, little king?

Where the land you call your own,

Where your palace and your throne?

Fluttering lightly on the wing

Through the blossom-world of May,

Whither lies your royal way,

Little king?

 Far to northward lies a land Where the trees together stand Closely as the blades of wheat When the summer is complete. Rolling like an ocean wide Over vale and mountainside, Balsam, hemlock, spruce and pine,— All those mighty trees are mine. There's a river flowing free,— All its waves belong to me. There's a lake so clear and bright Stars shine out of it all night; Rowan-berries round it spread Like a belt of coral red. Never royal garden planned Fair as my Canadian land! There I build my summer nest, There I reign and there I rest, While from dawn to dark I sing, Happy kingdom! Lucky king!

Far to northward lies a land

Where the trees together stand

Closely as the blades of wheat

When the summer is complete.

Rolling like an ocean wide

Over vale and mountainside,

Balsam, hemlock, spruce and pine,—

All those mighty trees are mine.

There's a river flowing free,—

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