________________________________________________
Title: Canadian-Born
Author: W. M. MacKeracher [
More Titles by MacKeracher]
Although I'm not unduly proud,
Inordinately vain,
But humble, as will be allowed,
And modest in the main;
I must confess to pride of birth,
And all detractors warn
To let alone one land on earth:
I am Canadian-born.
In one respect I fill the bill
As well as any man
Between Vancouver and Brazil,
Morocco and Japan.
From Hobart Town to Hammerfest,
From Greenland to the Horn,
My native land is much the best:
I am Canadian-born.
The Greeks beside their Hellespont
Thought all but they were scum;
The Latins loved the classic vaunt,
"Civis Romanus sum."
I'm not so impudent as they
To hold the world in scorn,
But have a better boast to-day,
"I am Canadian-born."
My land is beauty's flag unfurled,
A garden of increase,
The crowning wonder of the world,
Creation's masterpiece;
And deathless deed and kingly name
Her chronicles adorn;
I'm pardonably proud to claim
I am Canadian-born.
I love her cities old and new,
Her crested mountain-chains,
Her lakes and rivers fair to view,
Her meadows and her plains,
Her tented fields of yellow sheaves,
Her spears of towering corn,
Her forests with their maple leaves:
I am Canadian-born.
I love her verdant springtime sweet,
Her autumn red and gold;
I love her summer's tropic heat,
Her winter's arctic cold,
The splendor of her evening glow,
The glory of her morn;
And day and night I love to know
I am Canadian-born.
All honor to her pioneers,
The gallant sons of France;
All honor to their British peers,
Who aided her advance;
To workers like the great Champlain,
And Dufferin and Lorne,
And those who could take up the strain,
"I am Canadian-born."
Here my allotted time I'd live
And play my little part,
My service here to Nature give,
To Industry and Art;
Here pluck life's roses when I may,
And when I feel the thorn
Look up with fortitude and say,
"I am Canadian-born."
And should unfriendly circumstance
(Which Providence forbid!)
Decree that from my latest glance
My country should be hid,
Ah, then 'twill ease my parting sigh
And cheer my heart forlorn,
To think, wherever I may die,
I am Canadian-born.
[The end]
W. M. MacKeracher's poem: Canadian-Born
________________________________________________
GO TO TOP OF SCREEN
