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CANADIAN SINGERS AND THEIR SONGS From The Willow Whistle.

A day when April willows fringed the pool Of fifty years ago with freshening gold, Myself came trudging from the country school With my tall grandsire of the wars of old; His peaceful pen-knife trimmed a ravished shoot, Nicked deep the green and hollowed out the white, To fashion for the child a willow flute, His age exulting in the shrill delight;
 * "For so," he said "my grandsire made
 * The sweetest whistle ever blew,
 * When I and he were you and me
 * And all the world was new."

Now grandson "Billy" snuggles palm in mine, "Over the hills," he blows, "and far away." O pipe of Arcady, how clear and fine Thy single note salutes the yearning day! The breeze in branches bare, the whistling wing, The subtle-bubbling frog, the blue-birds call, The quivering sounds of ever-piercing Spring, That one thin willow note attunes them all:
 * And, far and near at once, I hear
 * The sweetest whistle ever blew,
 * Lilting again the older strain,
 * And all the world is new.

E. W. Thomson

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