From England and from sunny France Our fathers came, long years ago; On Abraham's plain with sword and lance They fought as foes--gave blow for blow. The victors and the conquered now Recall that day with mutual pride; To their grand destiny all bow, And as true peers, stand side by side. So give me Canada before The fairest land beneath the sky. We stretch our arms from shore to shore And all are free, both low and high; An infant nation yet, 'tis true, But strong in muscle and in nerve, We hold our own, give all their due, And God's great purpose humbly serve. LATE AUTUMN The fields lie bare before me now, The fruit is gathered in, Not even seen a grazing cow, Nor heard the blackbird's din. The heath is brown, and ivy pale, The woodbine berries red, And withered leaves borne on the gale Sink down on peaty bed. At morn the fence was covered o'er With a pale sheet of rime; The earth was like a marble floor, But now is turned to grime. For Autumn rains are falling fast, And swells the running brook; The Indian Summer, too, is past; For snowfall soon we look. FRIENDSHIP When presses hard my load of care, And other friends from me depart, I want a friend my grief to share, With faithful speech and loving heart. I want a friend of noble mind, Who loves me more than praise or pelf, Reproves my faults with spirit kind, And thinks of me as well as self-- A friend whose ear is ever closed Against traducers' poison breath; And, though in me be not disclosed An equal love, yet loves till death-- A friend who knows my weakness well, And ever seeks to calm my fears; If words should fail the storm to quell, Will soothe my fevered heart with tears-- A friend not moved by jealousy Should I outrun him in life's race; And though I doubt, still trusts in me With loyal heart and cloudless face. True friendship knows both joy and grief, The sweetest pleasure, keenest pain; Its sharpest pangs are ever brief, Mere flitting clouds before the rain. But soon the joy returns again With bluer sky and brighter light; The grief proves but a narrow glen All full of flowers, though hid from sight. And e'en in darkness we inhale The fragrant odors love emits; Friendship like this can never fail-- On love's strong throne its monarch sits. True friendship is of greater worth Than words, though they were solid gold. To all the glittering gems of earth I it prefer, a thousandfold. One Friend I have who knows my heart, And loves me with a changeless love; I love Him, too--nor death can part Us two, for we will love above. A woman's love to His is faint; No brother cleaves as close as He; No seraph words could ever paint The love this Friend now bears to me. LIFE