CONFEDERATION ODE
SONS of Britain, Sons of France, Arise! Sweep from your eyes These pestilential mists of prejudice and pride! 'Twas not some wild mischance That set you side by side In this Dominion, rich from sea to sea With hoarded treasures of the vast Cycles of the past Challenging your emprise and husbandry.
Stir not the rancorous fires Of that forgotten feud, In which your rugged sires Long barter'd blood for blood: When France and Albion were foes, Montcalm fell fighting for his country's smile, Wolfe's dying dreams were of his Mother Isle; And now, when France and Albion in the throes Of battle are allied against the Hun, Canadians—Gaul and Briton—still loyal to their home- lands may be One.
Diverse in speech and creed— Fling these factions far! One faith is yours, one valor-testing need— See where your kinsmen, bloody-browed with war, Gaze westward for the dawning of your ships— Arise! No thought of doubt must loose their Spartan lips, Go forth—or stay and boast no more your breed.
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