The Voyageur's Song
Come listen ye fellers so young and so bold,
And seek out your fortunes where the north winds blow cold.
It'll form as a habit and seep in your soul,
Till the stream of your blood runs as pure as the snow.
Where the voyageurs paddled and toted their bales,
You can hear their ghosts go sing'n on the same portage trails.
And your muscles will harden,
Your hands become rough,
Once you put the ash to it,
You can't get enough.
Now there's many a man that I've seen in my time,
Who's lived without seeing the northern lights shine,
Or an aspen grove glow as the sun sets so fine,
Or hear the wind whisper as it runs through the pines.
Now when I am gone and the ages rush by,
I'll wind up in heaven and look from the sky,
At the clear lakes below me where the blue waters shine,
You'll always be with me, these Northwoods of mine.