These latter gaz'd on fertile fields, and saw,
The waving grain, where stood the forest tree,
Where prowl'd the bear; or wolf, with hungry maw,
Howl'd in the settlers' ears so dismally,
That children crouch'd near to their mother's knee.
They saw, instead of plain, bark-roof'd abode,
A mansion wide, the scene of youthful glee,
And happy Age, now resting on his road,
To pay the debt, his sinning kind so long hath ow'd.
The organ or piano sounds its tone,
Where late in darkness cried the whip-poor-will,
Or gloomy owl's to whoo! to whoo! alone,
Came from the glen, or darkly wooded hill,—
These sounds, untaught, and unimprov'd in skill.
All round, where'er they look, they see a change,
By rolling lake, by river, mount or rill;
Wherever feet may walk, or eyes may range,
There is a transformation pleasing, new and strange.
Schools, churches, built in costly, solid style,
Proclaim the fact that here a higher life
Is liv'd than that of seeking all the while
For wealth, and pow'r, amid ignoble strife,
Degrading unto husband, son or wife.
The scholar's light, and blest religion's smile
Ennobles, soothes and lends a joy to life—
A pow'r, which counteracts the trickster's wile
And blunts the edge of slander undeserv'd and vile.
From where the fierce Atlantic waters rage,
Unto the mild Pacific's fertile shore,
Small villages to cities rise and wage
A steady war; but not a war of gore—
A friendly rivalry exists, no more,
Save in the far North-West, where savage clan
Ungrateful rise, and make a serious sore,
Whose pains increas'd, as eastward far it ran,
And plac'd the British race beneath the Frenchman's ban.
But quickly, let us hope, the time may come,
When peacefully the British flag shall wave,
And when the rebels' terrorizing drum
Shall be as still as Riel's rebel grave,
O'er the wide land, whose sides two oceans lave;
When demagogues of party shall retire,
Or curb their selfish zeal, their land to save
From factious feuds and savage rebel fire.
And all that tends to raise the patriot's scorn and ire.
From ocean unto ocean runs a band,
A double band of hard and gleaming steel;
It binds in one this fertile, mighty land,
In bonds which all should recognize and feel,
If anxious to promote their country's weal.
A bond which Nature's sympathetic law
Should fasten on our hearts with solid seal,
Which factious feuds should ne'er asunder draw,
Nor wily traitors cut, by selfish treason's saw.
The strange, stupendous, magic power of steam,
In works, is great as fam'd Aladdin's ring,
It carries men o'er miles of land and stream,
And maketh loom and forge, with labour sing,
And o'er the land, a busy air doth fling.
That fluid, too, that none can well define,
In active life hath wrought a wondrous thing.
It speeds our words with lightning flash or sign,
And maketh glorious light from midnight's darkness
shine.
Then to our country's future we may gaze
With gladden'd eyes, and hearts with hope aglow,
That our young country still its head will raise,
And stand 'mid nations, in the foremost row,
High honour'd there, and honour'd not for show—
For solid worth, and lasting pow'r and fame
Will be her portion, if her footsteps go
In duty's path, and if the ruddy flame
Of honor shines within, and keeps away all shame.
* * * * *