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Las diagrammes suivants illustrent la mAthode. ;_ 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 The EDITH and LORNE PIERCE COLLECTION of CANADI ANA silWWVH ilueen's University at Kingston Cibrarg KINGSTON, ONTARIO ,i ^*^*^*^*^4^^*^#^*^* ^^vj^atriotic Od ■BY- dOHJ^ JvicG/\L.L.UIvi, . .• \ • — AUTHOR OF — ;■'.■•..■ : ." * ■1 •'■-''' -■ • "T|1E y\UbD DORIGTOjNQUE," " pEVlSl JED," &c. 1* " Breathes there a marv With sovil so dead ■ WiiO rveVer to himself hath said Jhis is mvj oWrv, m\j native larvd." i.' NEWS PRINT LK ' PATJ^IOJIG ODES. * (The iollowing Odes are respectfully dedicated to Capt. Paul, Kingston.) * ome Amid earth's changing scenes — Alternate joys and fears — One word the heart can ne'er forget, 'Mid rosy hope or vain regret. Refreshed by memory's tears ; Where e'er we roam Beneath heaven's dome. We treasure still, thro' good or ill, the sacred name of home. Though lowly be the cot To which our fancy strays, Yet to the owner's partial eyes It seems a perfect paradise. Beyond his utmost praise ; Where love and mirth Smile round the hearth. And all our holiest aspirations there have birth. If o'er our hapless head Blows ohill misfortune's wind, Then like the needle to the pole. To thee how quickly turns the soul, True sympathy to find ! Where heart clasps heart, And every smart That wounds the one, the other gladly shares a part. The backbone of the State, Where valiant hearts and true Are moulded faithfully apace, In every leal, ennobling grace That patriots pursue ; Aggressive might All fearless smite, And bow before no power, save justice, God and right. 56046 Patriotic Odes. ^\)e ^wenty-Rourtl;) of rrfoay All hail ! our Queen, our gracious Cjueenl Canadians lead the chorus ; Long may the Union Jack be seen Full proudly waving o'er us. lie this to-day our darling toast, From mountain, vale and river. And may it roll from coast to coast — •' Our Queen and home forever." Then here's to Britain's loyal sons, Aye first in freedom's tussle ; F^orever wed, in heart and head, The Shamrock, Rose and Thistle. '• God save the Queen." We hear the strain From o'er the mighty waters ; And we take up the glad refrain — Canadian sons and daughters ; And send the joyous notes along To fair Australian valleys. Where echo's voice the notes prolong To Indian hut and palace. Then here's to Britian's loyal sons. Aye first in freedom _ '-ssle ; F'or ever wed, in heart anr" lead, The Shamrock, Rose and Thistle. And British hearts, though sad or gay, And ever leal and ready To toast the twenty-fourth of May, And our dear sovereign lady. Aye pledged to Britian and its throne, Our glorious constitution ; May justice guide the State alone, And thwart red Revolution. Then here's to Britain's loyal sons, Aye first in freedom's tussle ; For ever wed, in heart and head. The Shamrock, Rose and Thistle. . Our father shed their dearest blood For honor, truth and Britain ; How oft have they on field and flood The stubborn foeman beaten ! And we the sons of sires renewed In many a thrilling story ; We'll pledge anew, with reverence due, Our Queen and Britain's priory. Then here's to Britain's loyal sons, Aye first in freedom's tussle ; For ever wed, in heart and head, The Shamrock, Rose and Thistle. Patriotic Odai. 5 Imperial (Jreccc, nor haiif,'hly I'iomc, Claimed empire half so sploiulid ; Of truth and equity the home, Of love and valor blended. The sun ne'er se»s upon the plains Whereon thy standard's planted ; Isle answers Isle in loyal strains, From British hearts undaunted, Then here's to Britain's loyal sons, Aye first in freedom's tussle ; For ever wed, in heart and head. The Shamrock, Rose and Thistle. The crushed and feeble turn to thee, As to their grand protector ; And at thy word the dastards flee — The tyrant and subjector. The fetter's clank, and dungeon's wail, And fierce oppression's leer, Before the Royal Lion quail, And flee like frightened deer. Then here's to Britain's loyal sons. Aye first in freedom's tussle ; For ever wed, In heart and head, The Shamrock, Rose and Thistle. The ocean owns thy sovereign sway In every known relation, E'er since thy children crushed that day The Spanish proud invasion. And oft since then have British guns Their voice of vict'ry thundered ; As o'er the deep, the good ships sweep, And all the world has wondered. Then here's to Britain's loyal sons, Aye first in freedom's tussle ; For ever wed, iu heart and head, The Shamrock. Rose and Thistle. O'er all the earth, from zone to zone. Thy children shout together — '• Three loyal cheers for ]3ritain's throne ! Its glory fade shall never. And three times three to her who sits Upon its sure foundation, May heaven attend, and still extend, An undivided nation." Then here's to Britain's loyal sons, Aye first in freedom's tussle ; For ever wed, in heart and head, The Shamrock, Rose and Thistle. Patriotic Odes. (^be fHop Tune— "Tho Red, While and Blue. Long flourish the stout, sturdy m.iple I Its leaves ever welcome and green, An emblem, I trow, that's no fable To loyal Canadians, I ween. The rose may claim culture and beauty, The shamrock, wit, fancy and glee, The thistle may boast of stern duty, Tho maple proclaims liberty ! Though yo.ing be the nation that claims thee, There throbs in its lile-blood no blight ; Long life to the people who names thee — The emblem of freedom and right. Thy root in the soil deeply planted, Thy head peering up to the sky. Betoken the people undaunted. Who've sworn to protect thee or die. Then here's to the land of the maple ! The home of the brave and the free ; And here's to the love that's the cable ! That binds all thy children to thee. Thy sons are all brave and true-hearted. Thy maidens are faithful and fair, The sires to the sons have imparted This motto for freedom " We dare." It may be that some lands are blander, Their vales have a lovelier glow. Thy mountains and valleys look grander To thy sons aud thy daughters, I trow. There's grandeur from hill-top to river. There's beauty in each inland sea ; Then Canada flourish for ever I As grand as thine own maple tree. " There have been tew statesmen in any country that could boast of a longer period of popularity than our veteran premier, while neither in this nor any foreign country is there a statesman who can boast that his popularity has been founded on more substantial or more enduring service to his countrymen." Kingston News, Dec. 28, 1888. ^ev period of itry is tiieie a ntial or more ec. 28, 1888. Patriotic Odes. Nae hackneyed theme my pen inspires, But one 'twould grace the deathless lyers Of bards whose music never tires, As years roll on ; The muse finds a' her pet desires— In guid Sir John. A statesman in the highest sense, Wi' wisdom ripe and wit immense, And patriotic heart intense. He stands alone : A foe tae shallow, sham prentence, Leal auld Sir John. He holds the sceptre o' command Wi' firm yet wi' gentle hand ; A leader born, his plans will stand To build upon ; His grasp o' things is vast and grand, Wise auld Sir John. His heid's filled fu' o' classic lore, His soul is generous tat the core, Nae dour, dull, dry, dogmatic bore, Wi' heart o' stone ; On Reason's wings his fancies soar, Sage auld Sir John. He wastes nae time in senseless havers. Nor condescends tae clashmaclevers, What e'er he says wi' wisdom savors And lofty tone ; Mean personal spleen he treats as blethers, Brave auld Sir John. Nae mountibank wi' idle dreams. Where self is first in a' his schemes. And think tae mak' bombastic screams For sense atone ; Such hollow cant he lightly deems, Grand auld Sir John. Nae selfish ends his words conceal. As a' his measures do reveal, Tae doubt this truth, the very de'il Could not be known ; His dearest thought's his country's weal, Dear auld Sir John. Is there a sour concieted sumph Wha at these words would mutter " humph," Just let the numskull growl and groan, And grunt and grumph. Among Canadian sons he's trumph — Great auld Sir John. 8 Patriotic Odes, As do the wanderinf^ orbs o' niRht Withdraw their cold inconstant light When rhoobus rises in his might- Unmatched, alone ; So a' oor country's seers tak' flight Before Sir John, His unmatched zeal can ne'er be told, His country's greatness to uphold, A glorious polocy to mould A" ranks might own, Has been the darling wish, and bold, Of shiewd Sir John. Aye practical in word and deed, Acta nun verba is his creed. His country's saviour in her need In years bygone ; Wha kens him best maun say " God speed," Tae^guid Sir John. Lang be he spared, oor chieftain grand, Tae guide the interests o' oor land. And when at length wi' age unmanned And feeble grown, Lord tak' him tae Thy ain right hand — Bless'd auld Sir John ! 0ur Dear Adopted Qand. Tune— "Auld Langsyne." Ho ! ye who hail from o'er the sea ! Come join in heart and hand, And sing this strain, with might and main. Our dear adopted land. Our dear adopted land, my friends, Our dear adopted land ; Hip, hip, hurrah ! for Canada ! Our dear adopted land. Thongh dear the land we've left behind, Each vale and meadow bland. Yet still we'll sing, to thee we'll cling Our dear adopted land. Our dear adopted land, my friends, Our dear adopted land ; Hip, hip, hurrah ! for Canada ! Our dear adopted land. Pnfnotii (hiei. tn thee we'vt; fotirul a hanpy lioiuc, Hy frecclom's breezes friniwd ; Ami friendship's smiles, and beauty's wiles, Our dear adopted lauu. Our dear adopted laud, my friends, Our dear adopted land ; Hip, hit), hurrah ! for Canada ! Our dear adopted land. The past has found thee staunch and true To duty's stern command ; Thy shield, I wot, contains no blot, Our dear adopted land. Our dear adopted land, my friends, Our dear adopttul land ; Ilip, hip, hurrah ! for Canada ' Our d(!ar .^I'./pted land. Thouf^h varied dines thy children claim, Yet love to thee's the band That links the wliole in heart and soul, Our dear adopted land. Our dear adopted land, my friends, Our dear adapted land ; Hip, hip, hurrah ! for Canada ! Our dear adopted land. We need no seer's eye to see Thy future great and grand ; Thy deathless name, entwined with fame, Our dear adopted land. Our dear adopted land, my frit;nds. Our dear adopted land ; Hip, hip, hurrah ! Our dear adopted land. U ^ona of tSabo r. Ho ! ye horny-fisted toilers ! Building up a nation's walls ; Sowing seed, while loud-mouthed broilers Waste their breath in useless brawls. Ply the shuttle, wield the hammer. Guide the sickle, mould the clay, Leave to schoolmen greek and grammar, Labour's sons are Britain's stay. W^f. 10 Patriotic Odes. Were it not for brain and muscle, Britain, trade-mart of the world, Could not have through many a tussle, Freedom's flag so long unfurled. Ply the shuttle, wield the hammer, Guide the sickle, mould the clay, Leave to schoolmen greek and grammar. Labour's sons are Britain's stay. Know ye not 'tis dint of labour, Battles fought on bloodless fields. That's our country's stay and sav.'our. And her greatness guards and shields. Ply the shuttle, wield the ham-mer, Guide the sickle, mould the clay. Leave to schoolmen greek and grammar, Labour's sons are Britain's stay. In the snorting of the engine, In the whir and birr of wheels. Superstition in her dungeon. Hears the sound her fate that seals. Ply the shuttle, wield the hammer. Guide the sickle, mould the clay. Leave to schoolmen greek and grammar, Labour's sons are Britain's stary. In the harsh discordant voices That arise from forge and loom, Britain's mighty heart rejoices, And her brow is cleared of gloom. Ply the shuttle, wield the hammer, Guide the sickle, mould the clay. Leave to schoolmen greek and grammar, Labour's sons are Britain's stay. From the whisking sound of axes. From the pit shaft dark and and cold, Come the sinews of our taxes, Britain's prestige to uphold. Ply the shuttle, wield the hammer. Guide the sickle, mould the clay. Leave to schoolmen greek and grammar, Labour's sons are Britain's stay. Deep wiihin her iron-ribLad bosom Lie the treasures of our land. There 'mid dangers thick and gruesor.ie, Labour earns her triumphs grand. Ply the shutte, wield the hammer. Guide the sickle, mould the day. Leave to schoolmen greek and grammar. Labour's sons are Britain's stay. M II PairioHc Odes. He who spake as man did never — Words 'twill live through all earth's storms- Consecrated once for ever, Toil in all its varied forms. Ply the shuttle, wield the hammar, Guide the sickle mould the clay, Leave to schoolmen, greek and grammar, Labour's sons are Britain's stay. Think of Him, the world's Redeemer, Brew begrimmed with labour's stain. No Utopian, aimless dreamer, — • Toiling on with hand and brain. Ply the shuttle, wield the hammer, Guide the sickle, mould tho clay. Leave to schoolmen greek and grammar. Labour's sons are Britain's stay. Though thy walk in life be lowly, Though disheartened oft ye feel, Labor makes thy pathway holy, Consecrates the frugal meal. Ply the shuttt'e, wield the hammer, Guide the sickle, mould the clay, Leave to schoolmen greek and grammar. Labour's sons are Britain's stay. Not to downy bed and pillows Always comes the sweetest rest ; Oft they feel like surging billows To some Croesus' troubled breast. Ply the shuttle, wield the hammer, Guide the sickle, mould the clay. Leave to schoolmen greek and grammar. Labour's sons are Britain's stay. Men of every phase of labour, Faint not in the role ye play ; By a wise and stern endeavour, Truth and worth will win the day. Ply the shuttle, wield the hammer. Guide the sickle, mould the clay. Leave to schoolmen grrek and grammar. Labour's sons are Britain's stay. n Qye FRanly Play You? Part. We canna a' be wealthy, we canna a' be great, We canna a' be rulers in either kirk or state. We canna a" hae god-like power o' intellect and nerve. Where one is born to rule and guide, a thousand's born to serve. 12 Patriotic Odes. And yet though humble and obscure our place in life's stern fight. We may as deathless laurels win as star-bejewelled knight, And they wha face life's duties a' that lie near to their heart, Hae done their best, wha can do mair ?— aye play a manly part. Though sometimes it is hard to bear the stings and slings o' life, There's yet a calm and peacefu' goal to a' its din and strife, Wha finds the sweetest, softest rest, unvexed by abject fear ? 'Tis those, though tried and tempest-tossed, have yet a conscience clear. Oh, sweet is sunshine after rain, and pleasure after grief, How dear when dreary winter's past, the opening bud and leaf, And sweet to many a weary wight, wha under troubles smart. The thought that sufi'ring nerver; the soul, — aye play a manly part. At times we think 'tis folly pure to try and stem the tide. But just rest idly on oor oars and wi' the current glide ; But never yet was victory won without some sacrifice. The greater barriers to o'ercome, the greater aye the prize. And danger faced and overcome maun fill the heart wi' glee, Unfelt by a' save those who've fought 'gainst odds to victory ; And looking proudly to the past what joys maun through them dart. That knave or caitiff ne'er can feel, — aye play a manly part. 'Tis said oor acts oor angels are, that whether guid or ill, That in the lang, lang life to come, they'll bless or haunt us still ; Gin that be true we canna tell, but this we brawly ken. That virtue is its ain reward to a' degrees o' men. And gin oor lives be in the right, although at times we fail. The motive justifies the deed, as moral does the tale. And though a thankless part we plav in life's big, changefu' mart. Let's learn to " labour and to wait," and manly play oor part. ■ oanada. Hurrah, hurrah ! for Canada, the bonnie and the brave ! Long may the beaver rear its head, the vernal maple wave. As emblems of thy hardy race, the gallant and the free. Who'll ne'er submit to red-eyed wrong not crouch to tyranny. Thy fame shall never cease to be applauded o'er the world. Where ever men o'er martyr's graves have freedom's flag unfurled And sooner shall the hills take flight that guard thy native plains, Then will Canadians cease to sing thy patriotic strains. Here valour dwells and justice reigns, the patriotic flame Is part and parcel of thy life and not an empty name ; And if a time should ever come when State must stand or fall, No son of thine will fail, I trow, to answer to thy call. A nation's, like a man of worth, is measured not by threats, Too often is the braggard's boasts fast followed by regrets. The frothy stream that boils and broils is shallow at the best, The ample, wide, majestic lake seems placid and at rest. I fight. t, part. life, science clear. leaf, rt, ily part. y : lem dart. t. s still : Patriotic Odes. The past has stamped upon thy heart a lesson great and grand, That when occasion calls thee forth thou'rl fit to take thy stand, And show by dint of word and deed, in conflict foul or fair, Thy sons are ready for thy sake to do what men may dare. Thy victories of peace and war, unsullied by a spot, 'Twould make a freeman hang his head in palace or in cot, Must fill each patriotic heart with reverence and pride, To guard thy honor as his own, whatever may betide. Within thy fair and vast domains, what treasure good and grand. Has nature not bestown on thee, with kind and lavish hand ? In field and forest lake and shore, in dells and mountain rifts. Are scattered broadcast far and near her best and choicest gifts, A land of beauty — nameless fair, of every varied mood. From cataract with voice sublime, to deepest solitude ; From smiling valleys robed m green and laced with silver rills. To summits clothed in virgin snow among the pathless hills. Thy future looms with prospect bright, of honour, prestige, power. When wisdom shall thy borders gird and valour guard each tower. When pessimistic, peevish plaint no more shall lift its voice, But steadfast in its righteous strength, a nation shall rejoice. The blood that pulses in thy vains, has flown from sires renowned, Who have been in the ages past, by every virtue crowned ; And bound up in thy morning life are elements as grand As those that made tne parent stock, the pride of ever land. 13 mart, art. ny. mfurled ; plains, (all, ;t. 0ncl rew s Ba /■ 2St, Oh, ye wha claim oor patron saint, Whose hearts nae foreign air can taint And mak' them slight the land they spent Life's opening May ; Be this toast pledged without restraint " St. Andrew's Day." May joy and happiness preside. As sitting jovial side by side. Ye toast the land far ower the tide, Wi' muckle glee; O' a' the earth the wale and pride— The auld countrie. What Scot but kindles at the strains That paint his dear, his native plains, W^here honor dwells and virtue reigns Wi' lofty name ; And sociality attains Her highest aim. H ll Patriotic Odes. Dear favoured land o' deathless song, What praises meet tae thee belong ? Thy sons hae faced and vanquished wrong In many a fight ; Have dared the scaffold and the thong, For God and right. And Scotia's sons are still the same, As leal tae truth, as fond o' home As when ilk sire engraved his name On fame's proud roll ; Aye pledged tae friendship's sacred flame Frae pole tae pole. Though many o' thy sons hae been In grander land and climes, I ween, Yet nae where seems the grass sae greer, Nae hills sae grand. As what we find tae feast the een. In auld Scotland. Nae flowrets bloom sae fair and sweet, Nae bidies hae the same " twit' twit," Nae maidens hae such charms complete As Scotia boasts ; Sae let's wi' mirth the auld land greet. In a' oor toasts. And first we'll toast auld Scotia's fame. And next her maids — ilk bonnie dame, Her hardy sons, though far frae home. Their part will play : And pledge ilk year, wi' hearts aflame, St. Andrew's Day. Kriendsf^ip. I crave not for wealth, or the pomp that it brings, I court not the laurels of fame. But, oh ! my heart pants for the solace that springs From a friendship that's always the same. No matter how humble the role we may play In life's mystic drama all through, We ever may bask in the sunshine of May If friends would prove faithful and true. That heart must be lonely and never at rest, Though it beats in the breast of a king. That knows not a friend who will aye stand the test, No matter what fortune may bring. But rare as the visits of angels, I trow. Is the friendship that's aught but a name, Let an adverse Simoon one whiff on you blow, And your gay friends are off as they came. i » g rings e test, Patriotic Odes. How utterly nauseous is that fulsome cant, The sycophant whines in your lug, While if ye but hinted ye then were in want, He'd leave double-quick with a shrug. But precious the blessing, beyond all compare, When sunk in misfortune's quagmire, To know of some loved one our burden who'd share, Altho' 'twere thro' flood or thro' fire. Then here's to the friendship that never turns cold ! That's faithful and true till life's end ; Its \ orth and its grandeaur can never be told, Three cheers for an old trusty friend ! J5 ^be ^ide Will ^urn Qjialn. Tune—" Nae luck about the hoose." How few have reached the goal of life Untouched by scratch or scar ? How many sick of care and strife, Have crossed the harbour bar ! And yet we should not nurse our fears, Each trials will depart ; And life has smiles as well as tears To every honest heart. The tide will turn again, my boys. The tide will turn again ; The darkest night gives place to light. And sunshine follows rain. 'Tis hard at times to stem the stream Against both wind and tide. While others fdle sit and dream, And with the current glide. The Angel Hope can still beguile Each gathering care and fear, And who can prize aright a smile Who never shed a tear ? The tide will turn again, my boys. The tide will turn again ; The darkest night, gives place to light, And sunshine follows rain, This life — a ucene of ups and downs — A lottery is at best ; This moment met by sneers and frowns. The next by love caressed. Within thy valley sombre, drear. To-day our feet may stand ; To-morrow we from Pisgah clear May view the prortiised land. The tide will turn again, my boys, The tide will turn again : The darkest night gives place to light. And sunshine follows rain. '■^,~ H fl6 Patriotic Odes. i\obert Burns. (Born 2Sth January, 1759 — An anniversary Tribute.) O Robin, Robin, bard divine ! thy natal morn is here ! To every patriotic scot the proudest of the year ; Of what event can Scotia boast, to which a Scotchman turns ** With half the pleasure, pride and praise than to the name of Burns ? And though for many years before our eyes had seen the light, To a land of song and beauty his spirit winged its flight. We still can see that manly form behind his frugal plough, The stamp of brightest genius imprinted on his brow. He stoopeth o'er the daisy, and in one short-lived hour It burgeons forth in beauty — a loved, a treasured flower, And ever since it flnds a place in every kindly heart. And gayer flowers we'd rather lose than with the " gowan part. And see, the ploughshare has upturned a lowly mouse's nest, And pity lurks within his eye, and Alls his generous breast, He mourns the timerous, timid thing, in pathos so sublime. That ne'er forgot shall mousie be down thro' the stream of time. He thinks on dear domestic ties, his lx:>som swells with pride, He paints that sweet and hallowed scene, the cotter's fireside ; That sacred drama who can read with inmost heart untouched ? Nor feel his grosser self abashed, his better self enriched 1 And other themes the lowliest, 'twere known o'er Scotia's plains, Touched by the great high priest of song — the witch'ry of his strains- Sprung into light and beauty, and breathed a new-born life, That soothe our jadded spirits amid earth's ceaseless strife. And yet though tender was his heart, the patriotic glow Lit up his great and dauntless soul, as few on earth may know ; He gazed on pomp and pageantry, and all the lordling clan, But what was tinsel show to him if wanting were the man ! He knew no servile homage to primate, priest, or king. The language of whose lives had not the true and sterling ring ; The rude, unlettered rustic, with naught but native worth ; Wes dearer far to him than he— an accident of birth. . We feel his presence still to-day, the music of his lyre Sinks deep into each bosom to quicken and inspire ; We cannot think of him as dead, a bard of others years. The spirit of his muse is wed to all our smiles and tears. Oh, cold and dead that heart must be, his lyrics cannot thrill, Who never felt the witchery of his p>oetic skill ; Then welcome this auspicious day as oft as it returns — With chorus, song, and three-times-lhree, for our immortal Burns. •'yiil 'm