've not many frien' to spare— I 'm born, w'ere de mountain scrape de sky, An' bone of ma fader an' moder lie, So I fill de glass an' I raise it high An' drink to de Voyageur. 

Anoder wan for your frien',

I 've not many frien' to spare—

An' drink to de Voyageur.

 For dis is de night of de jour de l'an,[1] W'en de man of de Grand Nor' Wes' T'ink of hees home on de St. Laurent, An' frien' he may never see— Gone he is now, an' de beeg canoe No more you 'll see wit' de red-shirt crew, But long as he leev' he was alway true, So we 'll drink to hees memory. 

W'en de man of de Grand Nor' Wes'

An' frien' he may never see—

So we 'll drink to hees memory.

 Ax' heem de nort' win' w'at he see Of de Voyageur long ago, An' he 'll say to you w'at he say to me, So lissen hees story well— "I see de track of hees botte sau-vage[2] On many a hill an' long portage Far far away from hees own vill-age An' soun' of de parish bell— 

Of de Voyageur long ago,

So lissen hees story well—

An' soun' of de parish bell—

 

 "Far, far away from hees own vill-age An' soun' of de parish bell." 

 "I never can play on de Hudson Bay Or mountain dat lie between But I meet heem singin' hees lonely way De happies' man I know— I cool hees face as he 's sleepin' dere Under de star of de Red Rivière, An' off on de home of de great w'ite bear, I 'm seein' hees dog traineau.[3] 

Or mountain dat lie between

De happies' man I know—

I 'm seein' hees dog traineau.[3]

 "De woman an' chil'ren 's runnin' out On de wigwam of de Cree— De leetle papoose dey laugh an' shout W'en de soun' of hees voice dey hear— De 

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