1 Come all you hardy sons of toil, pray lend an ear to me,
While I relate the dismal fate of this our country.
I will not pause to name the cause, but keep it close in view,
Though friends will grieve and take their leave, and bid this Isle adieu.
2 There is a band within this land who live in pomp and pride.
To fill their store they rob the poor; in pleasure will they ride.
With dishes fine their tables shine; they move in princely style.
Those are the knaves that made us slaves and sold Prince Edward Isle.
3 The father's boy, his only joy, must leave his sad farewell,
For parting or to meet no more on earth, for who can tell?
Far from his soil and prairies wild, in country now that's new,
Content they stay and bless the day they bid this Isle adieu.
4 Our daughters fair in deep despair must leave their native land;
To foreign shores they swiftly bore, as I do understand.
The tide must flow, we all must go; there is nothing else to do,
Though friends will grieve to see them leave, and bid this Isle adieu.
5 The reason why so many fly and leave their Island home:
Because it's clear we can't stay here, for work to do there is none.
In other climes there's better times — it can't be worse, it's true.
Come weal or woe, away we go, and bid this Isle adieu.
6 Through want and care and scanty fare the poor man drags along.
He hears the whistle loud and shrill; the Iron Horse speeds on.
He throws his pack upon his back; there is nothing else to do;
He boards the train for Bangor, Maine, and bids this Isle adieu.
7 In days of yore from foreign shore our fathers crossed the main.
Through dark and drear they settled here to quit that tyrant chain.
With courage stout they [did] put out the savage beast so wild.
Rough logs they cut to build their huts upon Prince Edward Isle.
8 With ax well ground they levelled down the prairies far and wide,
With spade and hoe the seed did sow; the plough was left untried.
With reaping hooks they cut their stooks, no buckeyes were in style.
They spent their days, their ashes lay, upon Prince Edward Isle.
9 The place was new, the roads were few, the people lived content.
The landlords came their fields to claim; each settler must pay rent.
So now you see the tyranny that drove them to exile,
Began again across the main, far from Prince Edward's Isle.
10 But changes great have come of late, and brought some curious things.
Dominion men have brought us in; in iron rails we ring.
Their maps and charts, and towns off starts; there's traps of every style.
There's doctors mute and lawyers cute upon Prince Edward Isle.
11 There are judges too, that find a clue to all our merchants' bill;
There's school trustees who want no fee[s] for using all their skill.
There's laws for hogs, both geese and dogs; at this, pray, do not smile,
For changes great have come of late upon Prince Edward Isle.
12 Now here's success to those who press the question of free trade.
Give hand in hand; the cause is grand — we are plainly in the shade!
The mainland route the year throughout, take this now all through.
My verse is done, my song is sung, Prince Edward Isle, adieu!
While I relate the dismal fate of this our country.
I will not pause to name the cause, but keep it close in view,
Though friends will grieve and take their leave, and bid this Isle adieu.
2 There is a band within this land who live in pomp and pride.
To fill their store they rob the poor; in pleasure will they ride.
With dishes fine their tables shine; they move in princely style.
Those are the knaves that made us slaves and sold Prince Edward Isle.
3 The father's boy, his only joy, must leave his sad farewell,
For parting or to meet no more on earth, for who can tell?
Far from his soil and prairies wild, in country now that's new,
Content they stay and bless the day they bid this Isle adieu.
4 Our daughters fair in deep despair must leave their native land;
To foreign shores they swiftly bore, as I do understand.
The tide must flow, we all must go; there is nothing else to do,
Though friends will grieve to see them leave, and bid this Isle adieu.
5 The reason why so many fly and leave their Island home:
Because it's clear we can't stay here, for work to do there is none.
In other climes there's better times — it can't be worse, it's true.
Come weal or woe, away we go, and bid this Isle adieu.
6 Through want and care and scanty fare the poor man drags along.
He hears the whistle loud and shrill; the Iron Horse speeds on.
He throws his pack upon his back; there is nothing else to do;
He boards the train for Bangor, Maine, and bids this Isle adieu.
7 In days of yore from foreign shore our fathers crossed the main.
Through dark and drear they settled here to quit that tyrant chain.
With courage stout they [did] put out the savage beast so wild.
Rough logs they cut to build their huts upon Prince Edward Isle.
8 With ax well ground they levelled down the prairies far and wide,
With spade and hoe the seed did sow; the plough was left untried.
With reaping hooks they cut their stooks, no buckeyes were in style.
They spent their days, their ashes lay, upon Prince Edward Isle.
9 The place was new, the roads were few, the people lived content.
The landlords came their fields to claim; each settler must pay rent.
So now you see the tyranny that drove them to exile,
Began again across the main, far from Prince Edward's Isle.
10 But changes great have come of late, and brought some curious things.
Dominion men have brought us in; in iron rails we ring.
Their maps and charts, and towns off starts; there's traps of every style.
There's doctors mute and lawyers cute upon Prince Edward Isle.
11 There are judges too, that find a clue to all our merchants' bill;
There's school trustees who want no fee[s] for using all their skill.
There's laws for hogs, both geese and dogs; at this, pray, do not smile,
For changes great have come of late upon Prince Edward Isle.
12 Now here's success to those who press the question of free trade.
Give hand in hand; the cause is grand — we are plainly in the shade!
The mainland route the year throughout, take this now all through.
My verse is done, my song is sung, Prince Edward Isle, adieu!