Page:Canadian poems of the great war.djvu/139

Isabel Eccleston Mackay Oh, to be in Canada !there's a road that rambles
 * Through a leafing maple-wood and up a windy hill.

Velvet pussy-willows press soft hands amid the brambles
 * Fringing round a sky-filled pool where cattle drink their fill.

Oh, to be in Canada!-there's a farmhouse hidden
 * Where the hollow meets the hill and Spring's first footsteps show—

Not a drop of honey there to any bee forbidden,
 * Not a cherry on a tree but all the robins know!

Oh, to be in Canada, now that Spring is calling
 * Sweet, so sweet, it breaks the heart to let its sweetness through!

Oh, to breast the windy hill while yet the dew is falling,
 * Waking all the meadow-larks to carol in the blue!

Smile upon us, Canada! None shall fail who love you,
 * While they hold a mem'ry of your fields where flowers are—

High the task to keep unstained the skies that bend above you,
 * Proud the life that shields you from the flaming wind of war!

his is our day— The day of those who wait, Saddened, yet safe, on this side War's red gate, While, just beyond, whole nations flame and die, Their homeland ashes, and their name a sigh— This is Our Day, Our day to work and give That some who think to die may hope to live!