The Flag, and Other Poems, 1918

BY AMY REDPATH RODDICK ( All rights reserved ) Montreal John Dougall & Son




The tie that binds the British lands Is never spun of tyrant’s might; Of fair replies to just demands, Of compromise whenever right Is spun the fibre of its strands, A mighty Empire to unite.
A symbol is our gracious King Of British unity of heart, A simple man to whom we cling, Of all good men the counterpart. We sing to God to “Save the King,” And mean thereby ourselves in part.
The people of the British lands Are masters of their future fate, By effort of their mind and hands They glorify their Empire State, And, as the bud of thought expands, Can make new laws by calm debate.
The British Empire, may it be The nucleus of that larger league, Uniting every land and sea, Eschewing wars and false intrigue, May common sense and kindness be The crowning glory of that league!

Canada! where is thy flag, Welding race and race together? Union Jack, that wondrous rag, Dear to those who’ve trod the heather, Dear to those who love the rose, Blending Irish cross and nation With the crosses of old foes In a just and fair relation, Bears no emblem of the men, First to cross the stormy ocean, Bringing faith and plough and pen, First to know with deep emotion, Canada! thy name, as home. True, provincial arms commingle On thy flag o’er ships that roam; In their stead an emblem single, Maple leaf of golden hue, Would announce to all more proudly Whence thy ships their anchors drew; Would announce to all more loudly, Canada! thy nation’s life; And on land, when bells are ringing To acclaim the end of strife, When with joy each heart is singing; Canada! is this thy flag? Welding race and race together, Waving from each roof and crag, East and West, one nation ever!