O Canada!A voice calls through the mist and spumeAcross the wide wet salty leagues of foamFor aid.Whose voice thus penetrates thy peace?Whose?Thy Mother’s, Canada, thy Mother’s voice.O Canada!What answer make to calling voice and beating drum,O Canada!A drum beats through the night and day,Unresting, eager, strident, summoningTo arms.Whose drum thus throbs persistent?Whose?Old England’s, Canada, Old England’s drum.
O Canada!A sword gleams, leaping swift to strikeAt foes that press and leap to kill brave menOn guard.Whose sword thus gleams fierce death?Whose?’Tis Britain’s, Canada, Great Britain’s sword.
O Canada!A prayer beats hard at Heaven’s gate,Tearing the heart wide open to God’s eye,For righteousness.Whose prayer thus pierces Heaven?Whose?’Tis God’s prayer, Canada, Thy Kingdom come!
O Canada!What answer make to calling voice and beating drum,To sword flash and to pleading prayer of GodFor right? What answer makes my soul?“Mother, to thee!God, to Thy help!Quick!My sword!”
