Forward, Canada!

    Northland of our birth and rearing,
    Bound to us by ties endearing, -
    Forward ever, nothing fearing!
            Forward, Canada!

    Hear thy children's acclamations!
    Vanquish trials and vexations!
    Higher rise among the nations!
            Forward, Canada!

    Not by battles fierce and gory,
    Not by conquest's hollow glory,
    Need'st thou live in deathless story:
            Forward, Canada!

    Not by might and not by power, - -
    Truth shall be thy fortress tower;
    Arts of peace shall be thy flower:
            Forward, Canada!

    Yet if tyrant foe should ever
    'Gainst thee come with base endeavor,
    Strike, and yield thy freedom never:
            Forward, Canada!

W. M. MacKeracher

W. M. MacKeracher was a poet known for his contributions to Canadian literature during the early 20th century. His works often focused on themes of nature, human emotion, and the simplicity of rural life. Though not as widely known as some of his contemporaries, MacKeracher's poetry has been appreciated for its lyrical quality and depth. Much of his work was published in regional journals and anthologies, capturing the essence of Canadian landscapes and the human experience within them. His exact birth and death dates remain obscure.

W. M. MacKeracher

Reflections On A Tree In Autumn.

W. M. MacKeracher, Simple Poetry

The St. Lawrence.

W. M. MacKeracher, Simple Poetry

In Warehouse And Office.

W. M. MacKeracher, Simple Poetry

A Day Redeemed.

W. M. MacKeracher, Simple Poetry

English

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Canada

Dear Canada, our native land,
Our love for thee grows day by day;
Our fathers left the olden strand,
O'er sea and rapids made their way,
And by their energy and skill
They laid thy firm foundation deep,
And sowed the seed o'er vale and hill
Which we, their sons, are called to reap.

The wilderness blooms as the rose;
The old-time hardships are unknown;
And wealth in streams of commerce flows
From sea to sea--a nation grown--
Still youthful, but with thews of steel
To throttle foes that may arise;
Yet loving touch sore hearts to heal,
And lift us nearer to the skies.

We cannot boast as blue a sky
As smiles o'er many an Alpine plain,
Nor are our mountain peaks as high
As theirs, yet we have other gain;
Our hills are rich in yellow ...

Joseph Horatio Chant

A National Hymn. - Government House, March 1880.

From our Dominion never
Take Thy protecting hand,
United, Lord, for ever
Keep Thou our fathers' land!
From where Atlantic terrors
Our hardy seamen train,
To where the salt sea mirrors
The vast Pacific chain.
Aye one with her whose thunder
Keeps world-watch with the hours,
Guard Freedom's home and wonder,
"This Canada of ours."

Fair days of fortune send her,
Be Thou her Shield and Sun!
Our land, our flag's Defender,
Unite our hearts as one!
One flag, one land, upon her
May every blessing rest I
For loyal faith and honour
Her children's deeds attest
Aye one with her, &c.

No stranger's foot, insulting,
Shall tread our country's soil;
While stand her sons exulting
For her to live and toil.
She hath the v...

John Campbell

Canada's Resources.

        Small Scotland nobly held its own
        Against the might of England's throne,
        And shall this land with its vast bounds
        Shrink with fear ere the trumpet sounds.

        While British blood doth course each vein,
        Proudly this heritage maintain,
        With fertile acres by the billions,
        Future homes for two hundred millions.

        Each son could have a fertile farm,
        Brave men who ne'er will feel alarm,
        And they have both the nerve and skill
        To work land with a right good will.

        And she has got within her shores
        Renowned mines of many ores,
        While her furnaces and forges
        Iron in useful shape disgorges.

        Her mighty forests they do yiel...

James McIntyre

Canada, My Land.

    There may be more enchanting climes
        Within a southern zone;
    There may be eastern Edens deckt
        With charms to thee unknown;
    But thou art fairest unto me,
        Because thou art mine own,
            Canada, my land.

    More spacious plains and loftier heights
        In other realms may be,
    And mightier streams than those which bear
        Thy waters to the sea;
    But thou, great handiwork of God,
        Art grandest unto me,
            Canada, my land.

    More glorious records may adorn
        The annals of the past
    Than those which tell the rise and growth
        Of thy dominion vast;
    But I am proudest of the land
        In which my lot is cast,
            Canada, my land.

W. M. MacKeracher

Fragment Of An Ode To Canada

    This is the land!
It lies outstretched a vision of delight,
Bent like a shield between the silver seas
It flashes back the hauteur of the sun;
Yet teems with humblest beauties, still a part
Of its Titanic and ebullient heart.

Land of the glacial, lonely mountain ranges,
Where nothing haps save vast Æonian changes,
The slow moraine, the avalanche's wings,
Summer and Sun, - the elemental things,
Pulses of Awe, - Winter and Night and the lightnings.
Land of the pines that rear their dusky spars
A ready midnight for the earliest stars.
The land of rivers, rivulets, and rills,
Straining incessant everyway to the sea
With their white thunder harnessed in the mills,
Turning one wealth to another wealth perpetually;
Spinning the lightning with dynamic s...

Duncan Campbell Scott

Canada, 1882.

"Are hearts here strong enough to found
A glorious people's sway?"
Ask of our rivers as they bound
From hill to plain, or ocean-sound,
If they are strong to-day?
If weakness in their floods be found,
Then may ye answer "Nay!"

"Is union yours? may foeman's might
Your love ne'er break or chain?"
Go see if o'er our land the flight
Of Spring be stayed by blast or blight;
If Fall bring never grain;
If Summer suns deny their light,
Then may our hope be vain!

"Yet far too cramped the narrow space
Your country's rule can own?"
Ah! travel all its bounds and trace
Each Alp unto its fertile base,
Our realm of forests lone,
Our world of prairie, like the face
Of ocean, hardly known!

"Yet for the arts to find a shrine,
Too ro...

John Campbell