And I, though sojourning a stranger here,
Will dare to raise my voice in condemnation,
When words unwelcome to an English ear
Are heard re-echoing without cessation;
The while accursed party interests
Drive patriotic thoughts from out your breasts.
LVI.
I marvel not that politicians stand
In ill repute with honourable men,
While, through the length and breadth of this fair land,
They mark themselves with party's evil stain,
And enter in the field of politics
For selfish ends attained by shameless tricks.
Yet are not politicians in one mould
All fashioned; there are honest men and true
Who serve their country, not for love of gold
Or fame, but for the good that they can do.
Would God that these, and these alone, held sway
Within your senates, Canada, to-day!
LVIII.
But politics shall occupy my thought
No more. I turn with deep relief away
From that which lack of principle has brought
To premature and undeserved decay.
Perchance, from out the ashes where it lies,
True statesmanship may, phœnix-like, arise.
LIX.
The sun is setting, and its shining rays
Reflect them redly on the river's breast,
Which now an iridescent gleam displays,
Which, like a mighty opal, is possessed
With ever-changing hues of brilliancy;
As sets the sun their light I still can see.