Page:Marching Men - War Verses (1917).pdf/45



OUNTRY of mine that gave me birth,
 * Land of the maple and the pine,

What richer gift has this round earth
 * Than these fair fruitful fields of thine?

Like sheets of gold thy harvests run Glowing beneath the August sun;
 * Thy white peaks soar,
 * Thy cataracts roar,
 * Thy forests stretch from shore to shore;

Untamed thy Northern prairies lie Under an open, boundless sky;
 * Yet one thing more our hearts implore—

That greatness may not pass thee by!

Thy sons have proved them of the breed
 * Their gallant British fathers were,

They sprang to arms at Britain's need,
 * Young lions truly bred of her;

Their faces glowed with inner light, As rank by rank they swept from sight;
 * With hearts aflame
 * They stemmed the shame,

And met the hordes that ruthless came;