Lays of fair dames of lofty birth, And golden hair alt richly curled; Of knights that venture life for love, Suit poets of the older world. We wilt not fill our simple rhymes, With diamond flash, or gleaming pearl; In singing of the by-gone times; We simply sing the love and faith, Outliving absence, strong as death, Of one Jow-born Canadian girl. 'Twas long ago the rapid spring Had scarce given place to summer yet, The Ottawa, with swollen flood, Rolled past thy banks, Plantagenet; Thy banks where tall and plumed pines Stood rank on rank, in serried lines. Green islands, each with leafy crest, Lay peaceful on the river's breast, The trees, ere this, had, one by one, Shook out their leaflet…
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