O CANADA, MY OWN BELOVED LAND![7]

"One's own land is best of all," So an ancient adage says; To sing it is the poet's call, Mine be to sing my fair land's praise. Strangers behold with envious eyes St. Lawrence's tide so swift and grand, But the Canadian proudly cries, O Canada, my own beloved land! Rivers and streams in myriad maze Meander through our fertile plains, Midst many a lofty mountain's haze, What vast expanse the vision chains! Vales, hills and rapids, forest brakes— What panorama near so grand! Who doth not love thy limpid lakes, O Canada, my own beloved land! Each season of the passing year, In turn, attractions hath to bless. Spring like an ardent wooer, dear, Besports fair flowers and verdant dress; Summer anon prepares to wrest The harvest rare with joyful hand; In Fall and Winter, feast and jest. O Canada, my own beloved land! Canadians, like their sires of old Revel in song and gaily live, Mild, gentle, free, not overbold, Polite and gallant, welcome give. Patriots, to country ever leal, They, foes of slavery, staunchly stand; Their watchword is the peace and weal Of Canada, their beloved land. Each country vaunts its damsels fair, (I quite agree with truth they boast) But our Canadian girls must share The witching charm of beauty's host, So lovely they and so sincere, With that French charm of magic wand, Coquettish just to make them dear. O Canada, my own beloved land! O my country, thou art blest, Favoured of all the nations now! But the stranger's vile behest Would the seeds of discord sow. May thy brave sons for thy sake Join to help thee, hand in hand, For thy great day doth e'en now break, O Canada, my own beloved land!