OUR neighbor of the undefended bound, <br />Friend of the hundred years of peace, our kin, <br />Fellow adventurer on the enchanted ground <br />Of the New World, must not the pain within <br />Our hearts for this wide anguish of the war <br />Be keenest for your pain? Is not our grief, <br />That aches with all bereavement, tenderest for <br />The tragic crimson on your maple-leaf? <br />Bitter our lot, in this world-clash of faiths, <br />To stand aloof and bide our hour to serve; <br />The glorious dead are living; we are wraiths, <br />Dim watchers of the conflict's changing curve, <br />Yet proud for human valor, spirit true <br />In scorn of body, manhood on the crest <br />Of consecration, dearly proud for you, <br />Who sped to arms like knighthood to the Quest. <br />From quaint Quebec to stately Montreal, <br />Along the rich St. Lawrence, o'er the steep <br />Roofs of the Rockies rang the bugle-call, <br />And east and west, deep answering to deep, <br />Your sons surged forth, the simple, stooping folk <br />Of shop and wheatfield sprung to hero size <br />Swiftly as e'er your Northern Lights awoke <br />To streaming splendor quiet evening skies. <br />Seek not your lost beneath the tortured sod <br />Of France and Flanders, where in desperate strife <br />They battled greatly for the cause of God; <br />But when above the snow your heavens are rife <br />With those upleaping lusters, find them there, <br />Ardors of sacrifice, celestial sign, <br />Aureole your Angel shall forever wear, <br />Praising the irresistible Divine.<br /><br />Katharine Lee Bates<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-canada/
