We first saw light in Canada, the land beloved of God; <br />We are the pulse of Canada, its marrow and its blood: <br />And we, the men of Canada, can face the world and brag <br />That we were born in Canada beneath the British flag. <br /> <br />Few of us have the blood of kings, few are of courtly birth, <br />But few are vagabonds or rogues of doubtful name and worth; <br />And all have one credential that entitles us to brag-- <br />That we were born in Canada beneath the British flag. <br /> <br />We've yet to make our money, we've yet to make our fame, <br />But we have gold and glory in our clean colonial name; <br />And every man's a millionaire if only he can brag <br />That he was born in Canada beneath the British flag. <br /> <br />No title and no coronet is half so proudly worn <br />As that which we inherited as men Canadian born. <br />We count no man so noble as the one who makes the brag <br />That he was born in Canada beneath the British flag. <br /> <br />The Dutch may have their Holland, the Spaniard have his Spain, <br />The Yankee to the south of us must south of us remain; <br />For not a man dare lift a hand against the men who brag <br />That they were born in Canada beneath the British flag.<br /><br />Emily Pauline Johnson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/canadian-born/
