Thoughts, Moods and Ideals: Crimes of Leisure

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Crimes of Leisure
Montreal: WITNESS PRINTING HOUSE, ST. JAMES STREET 1887
Dedicated to My Friends.
YOUNG MAN What are the Vision and the Cry That haunt the new Canadian soul? Dim grandeur spreads we know not why O'er mountain, forest, tree and knoll, And murmurs indistinctly fly.— Some magic moment sure is nigh. O Seer, the curtain roll!
SEER The Vision, mortal, it is this— Dead mountain, forest, knoll and tree Awaken all endued with bliss, A native land—O think!—to be— Thy native land—and ne'er amiss, Its smile shall like a lover's kiss From henceforth seem to thee.
The Cry thou couldst not understand, Which runs through that new realm of light, From Breton's to Vancouver's strand O'er many a lovely landscape bright, It is their waking utterance grand, The great refrain A NATIVE LAND! — Thine be the ear, the sight.
(1882.)
To Thee whose smile is might and fame, A nation lifts united praise And asks but that Thy purpose frame A useful glory for its days.
We pray no sunset lull of rest, No pomp and bannered pride of war; We hold stern labor manliest, The just side real conqueror.
For strength we thank Thee: keep us strong, And grant us pride of skilful toil; For homes we thank Thee: may we long Have each some Eden rood of soil.