Canada, and Other Poems/Canada
For works with similar titles, see Canada.
Canada.
CYCLES of years recorded before me in letters enduring, Paged in the archives of earth, related a wonderful story;The growth of an infant world, till Life and Death were created;Nations unknown, and cities, unnamed in the legends of men,Marked by the finger of ages alone where language has diedSpoken in love and war by people ambitious and human.Tombs were the earth; and years with the forests, enshrouded and buried,Told how perished the peoples before us; a continent waitingGod's generation, awarded to toil that will name them forever.Cycles of years recorded before me on pages enduringDrew me to question the past and forget the passing of time.
Eager, the centuries backward I turned on the pages, till HistoryLost in Tradition, the pencil is guided by fancy and dreams;And thought like a captive enters to muse in the regions of Silence;Regions of Silence, and secret dominions ruled by the Past.My curious eyes marvel fondly, charming the soul's quicker pulses,For power is given my vision to gaze on the youth of the world.I linger on mystical pages, and fancy their secrets are solving,Declaring the end of the labors that builded through centuries silent.
The World, like a crystal afloat, was awhirl on the ocean of sunlight.Fallen like a drop from space when heaven was sprinkled with stars.I looked on a shoreless sea, unbroken, unmeasured, and drear,Surging and sweeping unhindered. Haply, the world yet unbornGave warning of birth; and the curve and calm of the pregnant sea,Like a mother's bosom, arose and throbbed with a newer life. Dark from its secret womb, a continent came into being,And lay on the breast of the deep, the child of a giant mother;Strongest, and first, in the cradle of waves, of the children of Ocean.Billows that broke, and nights that enshrouded, were songs and were nurses.Storms were the teachers of power; and cycles, the seasons of growth.Then, expanses of water began their lines of procession.From the east, the Atlantic murmurs adown dark leagues of beaches;The Pacific lingers and listens, by echoing mountain and canon.As words over heaven spake: "Do ye wait till my people come,"Mystery power and beauty, set in a living mould,Sealed on Mortality's scroll the writ of a hand divine.Nature sprang up into verdure to bloom in these kingdoms of silence.Where ages had wailed on the sea-shore, and levelled the mountains with change.Heaven, long sleepless in vigil, looked on with the patience of waiting.Seas moved restless and conscious, bending from border to border;Shaping symmetrical sweeps of coast from disorder; and guidedBy impulse creation-imparted encircled the living world.
Onward I held till cycles earth-annaled were shadows behind me;Seeing the birth of men, and monarchies gather and fall.River and mountain, calm and eruption, were letters of record,Mute, yet remindful of change and of God in the order of things.Then, from the shadows of forests outrose the language of races;Nations, nameless, and fated to wander and fade like the seasons.Southward they swept the continent over, marking the plains,Like the flow of the tide to flood; like the ebb to fall away.Here did I linger till pondering deepened my passion to know.My being went out, thrilled with the hope that was given from heaven; Filled with the knowledge of wonders to be. At last, with a shock, Over the face of the deep, the flash of a hand cut the billows;Then like a bird of the sea, a prow sped into its haven.Henceforth, the land is an altar to freedom manhood has chosen;Never forsaken or wanting of love by the children of men.Here, in the midst of the seas, unknown to the daring of valor, Hinted or visioned by fancy, or vaguely known by tradition;Here, an inheritance locked through the ages, lost on the vastness of waters,Receives the foot of change. Silence doth pinion away, As the spirit of life and hope joins across dividing seas, The old enslaved world with this great, new home of Freedom.Far through the quiet of forests, out o'er the plains of the Rockies, The sounds of a new tongue startle the Indian chieftains, and utter Monitions of the birth of a conquering people. Over the seas,Thought like a messenger God-sent encircles the world with its fire.Signs of a progress to be were marked on the pages before me, Peoples to come from the lands that the sun may find in a day;Gathered and welded together, quickly their labors extended.Then did I read of the strength breathed into their hearts and their pulsesBy the spirit that lived in the air of the valleys and mountains and waters;Breathing a purpose and strength within them to gladden the world;A wisdom to guide aright till nations are taught of their teaching, Wisdom and power like a great new light marking their virtue.
I con till the pages are teeming with annals of growth and of fame, Turning again to the present, whose leaf is waiting half-written.The book is heavy with promise accomplishment builds and inspires;Golden with good and with power, and the richness yet to come.
Back to the last noble year, pledged to build into the future, I am come where the impetus springs from the will of the people.Centuries three has the fire been burning, brought over the ocean. Solitudes waken and flash to the flaming of vigor, as manhood,Young and eager to do, strides into the mountains and valleys,And lifts the veil from the land long waiting in quiet and secret.My country smiles like a bride to receive the kiss of betrothal.Fair doth she seem to the world, and God's blessing has strengthened the union;And His promise bidding them onward to gather the good of fruitionLightens the way far into the years that are coming.Noble and strong, the nations usher their scion among them,Teaching, yet taught by the youngest, of glory, love and ambition.Fancy with strength of its daring turns into the future of years,Bold in the trial of deeds to track out the distant unknown.Dare I portend for my land, with this volume open before me,Honor and wealth for a crown, and growth of her dearest ambition?Rank yet higher 'mid the nations of earth, and virtue's rewards?I dare, with the knowledge of deeds that were, and of good that shall be.I dare, when the silver of morn melts into this paling darkness,Look for a perfect day, flooded with golden glory.I dare, when the grain leaves the liberal hand, look on to the harvest;Yea, now I may hear on the morn the whirl of the sickle.
My heart beats strong at the sound of my country's name and welfare,Building with proud nationality, fame in her sons and her daughters;Loosening aloft her flag, flung boldly to storms and to breezes.In the heart-throb of national feeling I hear but the heart-beat of manhood,Firing the currents of life in breasts of a happy people.And re-echoed in softening cadence, the souls of her poets are thrilling.From thee, dear land, grandest and noblest theme, their musicComes, inspired with glory and truth from holiest sources.