O, my name ie Peter Ambelay

As you may understand,

I belong to Prince Edward Island,

Down by the ocean strand.

In Eighteen Hundred and Eighty-two,

When the flowers were in brilliant hue,

I left my native country,

My fortune to pursue.

I hired in New Brunswick,

That lumbering counteree,

Hired to work in the lumbering woods,

Where they cut the tall spruce tree.

And loading a sled in the yard,

I received ray deadly wound

There's danger on the ocean,

Where the sea rolls mountains high,

There's danger on the battle-field,

Where the angry bullets fly.

Thera's danger in the lumbering woods,

And death lies silent there.

Soon I became a victim

Unto its monstrous snare.

Here's adieu unto my father,

'Twas he who drove me here,

I thought him very cruel.

His treatment was severe.

It is not right to press a boy,

Nor try to keep him down.

'Twill cause him for to leave his home,

When he is far too young.

Here's adieu unto my greatest friend,

I mean my mother dear,

Who raised a son that fell as soon

As he left her tender care.

How little did my mother think,

When she sang lullaby,

What country I must travel in,

Nor what death I might die.