I'm on my way to Canada,
That dark and dreary land;
Oh! the dread effects of slavery
I can no longer stand.
My soul is vexed within me so
To think I am a slave,
Resolved I am to strike the blow,
For freedom or the grave.
CHORUS
Oh, Righteous Father!
Wilt thou not pity me,
And help me on to Canada,
Where coloured men are free.
I've served my master all my days,
Without one dimes' reward,
And now I'm forced to run away,
To flee the lash and rod.
The hounds are baying on my track,
And master just behind,
Resolved that he will bring me back
Before I cross the line.
Old master went to preach one day,
Next day he looked for me;
I greased my heels and ran away,
For the land of liberty.
I dreamt I saw the British Queen
Majestic on the shore;
If e'er I reach old Canada,
I will come back no more.
I heard that Queen Victoria said,
If we would all forsake
Our native land of Slavery,
And come across the lake:
That she was standing on the shore
With arms extended wide,
To give us all a peaceful home
Beyond the swelling tide.
I heard old master pray one night,
That night he prayed for me,
That God would come with all his might,
From Satan set me free.
So I from Satan would escape
And flee the wrath to come,
If there's a fiend in human shape,
Old master must be one.