With the white cross on its crown!
Hurra! for Meccatina,
And its mountains bare and brown!
Where the caribou's tall antlers
O'er the dwarf-wood freely toss,
And the footsteps of the Mickmack
Have no sound upon the moss.
There we'll drop our lines, and gather
Old ocean's treasures in,
Where'er the mottled mackerel