Canada and Other Poems

by T. F. Young

Yes, wring your hands, thou fisher's wife,
For thou hast cause to wail
For him who left the fishing "grounds"
In that wild north-west gale.

'Mid frozen snow, and blocks of ice,
And fiercely rolling waves,
He and his little crew went down,
Uncoffin'd, to their graves.

* * * * *

YE PATRIOT SONS OF CANADA.

Ye patriot sons of Canada,
Whate'er your race or creed,
Arise, your country claims you now,
In this, her hour of need.

Arise, with right and valor girt,
To battle with the foe,
Which threatens to defy our laws,
And lay our country low.

Arise, for black rebellion's flag,
Again may 'mongst us wave,
And traitors in our country's camp,
May dig our country's grave.

The law was righteously enforc'd,
Riel did fairly die,
And why should we give way to those,
Who raise the rebel's cry?

In spite of priest's or statesman's voice,
Quebec, forsooth, must rage,
And, with her wrongful acts and words,
Insult experience and age.

And demagogues, with purpose vile,
Must lead the trait'rous cause,
And hound unthinking masses on,
To wreck our country's laws.