<h2><SPAN name="Maple" id="Maple"></SPAN>THE MAPLE</h2>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span>All hail to the broad-leaved Maple!<br/></span>
<span class="i1">With her fair and changeful dress—<br/></span>
<span>A type of our youthful country<br/></span>
<span class="i1">In its pride and loveliness;<br/></span>
<span>Whether in Spring or Summer,<br/></span>
<span class="i1">Or in the dreary Fall,<br/></span>
<span>'Mid Nature's forest children,<br/></span>
<span class="i1">She's fairest of them all.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span>Down sunny slopes and valleys<br/></span>
<span class="i1">Her graceful form is seen,<br/></span>
<span>Her wide, umbrageous branches<br/></span>
<span class="i1">The sunburnt reaper screen;<br/></span>
<span>'Mid the dark-browed firs and cedars<br/></span>
<span class="i1">Her livelier colours shine,<br/></span>
<span>Like the dawn of the brighter future<br/></span>
<span class="i1">On the settler's hut of pine.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span>She crowns the pleasant hilltop,<br/></span>
<span class="i1">Whispers on breezy downs,<br/></span>
<span>And casts refreshing shadows<br/></span>
<span class="i1">O'er the streets of our busy towns;<br/></span>
<span>She gladdens the aching eyeball,<br/></span>
<span class="i1">Shelters the weary head,<br/></span>
<span>And scatters her crimson glories<br/></span>
<span class="i1">On the graves of the silent dead.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span>When winter's frosts are yielding<br/></span>
<span class="i1">To the sun's returning sway,<br/></span>
<span>And merry groups are speeding<br/></span>
<span class="i1">To sugar-woods away;<br/></span>
<span>The sweet and welling juices,<br/></span>
<span class="i1">Which form their welcome spoil,<br/></span>
<span>Tell of the teeming plenty,<br/></span>
<span class="i1">Which here waits honest toil.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span>When sweet-toned Spring, soft-breathing,<br/></span>
<span class="i1">Breaks Nature's icy sleep,<br/></span>
<span>And the forest boughs are swaying<br/></span>
<span class="i1">Like the green waves of the deep;<br/></span>
<span>In her fair and budding beauty,<br/></span>
<span class="i1">A fitting emblem, she,<br/></span>
<span>Of this our land of promise,<br/></span>
<span class="i1">Of hope, of liberty.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span>And when her leaves, all crimson,<br/></span>
<span class="i1">Droop silently and fall,<br/></span>
<span>Like drops of life-blood welling<br/></span>
<span class="i1">From a warrior brave and tall;<br/></span>
<span>They tell how fast and freely<br/></span>
<span class="i1">Would her children's blood be shed,<br/></span>
<span>Ere the soil of our faith and freedom<br/></span>
<span class="i1">Should echo a foeman's tread.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span>Then hail to the broad-leaved Maple!<br/></span>
<span class="i1">With her fair and changeful dress—<br/></span>
<span>A type of our youthful country<br/></span>
<span class="i1">In its pride and loveliness;<br/></span>
<span>Whether in Spring or Summer,<br/></span>
<span class="i1">Or in the dreary Fall,<br/></span>
<span>'Mid Nature's forest children,<br/></span>
<span class="i1">She's fairest of them all.<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p class="citation"><span class="smcap">H. F. Darnell</span></p>
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