Charles G. D. Roberts

Here you will find the Poem Canada of poet Charles G. D. Roberts


O Child of Nations, giant-limbed,
 Who stand'st among the nations now
 Unheeded, unadored, unhymned,
 With unanointed brow, -- 
 How long the ignoble sloth, how long
 The trust in greatness not thine own?
 Surely the lion's brood is strong
 To front the world alone!
 How long the indolence, ere thou dare
 Achieve thy destiny, seize thy fame, -- 
 Ere our proud eyes behold thee bear
 A nation's franchise, nation's name?

 The Saxon force, the Celtic fire,
 These are thy manhood's heritage!
 Why rest with babes and slaves? Seek higher
 The place of race and age.

 I see to every wind unfurled
 The flag that bears the Maple Wreath;
 Thy swift keels furrow round the world
 Its blood-red folds beneath;

 Thy swift keels cleave the furthest seas;
 Thy white sails swell with alien gales;
 To stream on each remotest breeze
 The black smoke of thy pipes exhales.

 O Falterer, let thy past convince
 Thy future, -- all the growth, the gain,
 The fame since Cartier knew thee, since
 Thy shores beheld Champlain!

 (Montcalm and Wolfe! Wolfe and Montcalm!
 Quebec, thy storied citadel
 Attest in burning song and psalm
 How here thy heroes fell!

 O Thou that bor'st the battle's brunt
 At Queenston and at Lundy's Lane, -- 
 On whose scant ranks but iron front
 The battle broke in vain! -- 

 Whose was the danger, whose the day,
 From whose triumphant throats the cheers,
 At Chrysler's Farm, at Chateauguay,
 Storming like clarion-bursts our ears?

 On soft Pacific slopes, -- beside
 Strange floods that northward rave and fall, -- 
 Where chafes Acadia's chainless tide -- 
 Thy sons await thy call.

 They wait; but some in exile, some
 With strangers housed, in stranger lands, -- 
 And some Canadian lips are dumb
 Beneath Egyptian sands.

 O mystic Nile! Thy secret yields
 Before us; thy most ancient dreams 
 Are mixed with far Canadian fields
 And murmur of Canadian streams.

 But thou, my country, dream not thou!
 Wake, and behold how night is done, -- 
 How on thy breast, and o'er thy brow,
 Bursts the uprising sun!