Look on the travellers kneeling,
In thankful gladness, here,
As the boat that brought them o'er the lake,
Goes steaming from the pier.

'Tis Harry, like a girl disguised,
His mother, like a boy,
But the father kneels beside them,
And their hearts are full of joy.

No man can buy or sell them,
No trader chase them more,
The land of freedom has been gained,
The good Canadian shore.

And they are strangers on the soil,
As poor as poor can be,
But the English flag above them floats,
They know that they are free.