Classic Poem

When the Genius of Canada came
From o'er the eastern wave,
'Neath southern skies
She heard the cries
Of ev'ry weeping slave.

" I'll seek the northern woods, " she cried,
" Tho' bleak the skies may be;
The maple dells,
Where Freedom dwells,
Have special charms for me;

" For moral worth and manhood there
Have found a fav'ring clime.
I'll rear a race
For long to grace
The mighty page of Time.

" The arts shall flourish 'neath their care,
The palm of Peace shall wave
O'er homes of rest
For the opprest,
A refuge for the slave. "

Away to northern woods she flew,
A lovely home she found,
Where still she dwells
In quiet dells,
Her giant brood around.

" Behold! " she cries, " the hearts we mold
In land of lakes and pines,
Where Shamrock blows,
And English Rose
With Scottish Thistle twines. "