I learned the song at Camp Trelipe in N Minnesota in the mid 70's. This is what I have.


The life of a voyageur that of a sojourner,
traveling' around and round, but not from town to town.
Paddles the lakes and streams, follows his distant dreams
Peace on the water ways, blue sky or cloudy day.

My heart has but one home, from which I'll never roam
Land of true happiness, Canadian Wilderness.

The call of the lonely loon, coyotes howling at the moon.
Wind rustling through the trees, that's a Canadian breeze.
Smoke rising from the fire, up through the trees with a stately spire.
All is still in the evening glow. Sun goes down no north winds blow.

My heart has but one home, from which I'll never roam
Land of true happiness, Canadian Wilderness.

The life of a voyageur, that of a sojourner,
Avid but wearly, searching unendlessly.
Searching for peace of mind, while move the hands of time,
Moving uneasily, holding the secret key.

Key to his distant dreams, dreams that may often seem,
Hopeless and gone all wrong but he'll keep moving on.

The life of a voyageur, that of a sojourner,
Clear as a northern stream, key to his distant dreams
Some day he'll find it there, place where he can lose all care.
Loons cry, the wind blows free, he'll find his liberty.

End of all loneliness, end of all weariness, land of true happiness
Canadian Wilderness.