We feel that longing calling us,
Though we travel far and wide.
It doesn’t matter where we may roam,
There’s always a feeling of pride.

In the cold Atlantic she sits in her glory,
Newfoundland is so precious to us.
We’ll spin you a yarn like you never heard,
Welcome you with nar’ bit of fuss.

The soul of this island, its people,
They’re the heart in her granite face.
Kindness and warmth in abundance there,
In the world there’s no better place.

There are Newfoundlanders everywhere,
Sometimes clustered in cities and towns.
That familiar accent, their own special flair,
Longing to be homeward bound.

Nancy Crossman   Submitted By: Nancy Crossman