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Home  »  The Oxford Book of Canadian Verse  »  Theodore Harding Rand (1835–1900)

The Oxford Book of Canadian Verse

The Whitethroat

Theodore Harding Rand (1835–1900)

SHY bird of the silver arrows of song,

That cleave our Northern air so clear,

Thy notes prolong, prolong,

I listen, I hear:

‘I—love—dear—Canada,

Canada, Canada.’

O plumes of the pointed dusky fir,

Screen of a swelling patriot heart,

The copse is all astir,

And echoes thy part!…

Now willowy reeds tune their silver flutes

As the noise of the day dies down;

And silence strings her lutes,

The Whitethroat to crown….

O bird of the silver arrows of song,

Shy poet of Canada dear,

Thy notes prolong, prolong,

We listen, we hear:

‘I—love—dear—Canada,

Canada, Canada.’