O Maple Leaf!

    Thee best of leaves I love,
    In forest or in grove,
                O Maple Leaf;
    O thou which art the sign
    Of this dear land of mine,
    What loveliness is thine,
                O Maple Leaf!

    Naught can with thee compare,
    On earth or in the air,
                O Maple Leaf;
    Wondrous thy beauties are;
    Thy form is like a star,
    But thou art not afar,
                O Maple Leaf.

    When drops of dew adorn
    Thy surface in the morn,
                O Maple Leaf,
    No hue so fair is seen,
    In silk or satin's sheen,
    As thy rich shade of green,
                O Maple Leaf.

    No music in my ear
    Is half so sweet to hear,
                O Maple Leaf,
    As that which thou dost make
    When winds of summer shake
    The branches of the brake,
                O Maple Leaf.

    Most beautiful in pain,
    When suns begin to wane,
                O Maple Leaf,
    Thou never growest old,
    But in the time of cold
    Thou turnest but to gold,
                O Maple Leaf.

    And when the earth expires,
    And mute are all her choirs,
                O Maple Leaf,
    Thy dower thou dost shed
    Of tribute, richest red,
    Upon her sombre bed,
                O Maple Leaf.

    May heaven bless thy land,
    And make it strong to stand,
                O Maple Leaf;
    For it we humbly pray
    That God will be its stay,
    Now, henceforth, and for aye,
                O Maple Leaf.