THE LAKE OF A THOUSAND ISLES - Evan MacColl Poems

 
 

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THE LAKE OF A THOUSAND ISLES

(For Music.)

Though Missouri's tide may majestic glide,
    There's a curse on the soil it laves;
The Ohio, too, may be fair, but who
    Would sojourn in the land of slaves?
Be my prouder lot a Canadian cot
    And the bread of a freeman's toils;
Then hurrah for the land of the forests grand,
    And the Lake of the Thousand Isles!

I would seek no wealth, at the cost of health,
    'Mid the city's din and strife;
More I love the grace of fair nature's face,
    And the calm of a woodland life;
I would shun the road by ambition trod,
    And the lore which the heart defiles;--
Then hurrah for the land of the forests grand,
    And the Lake of the Thousand Isles!

O away, away! I would gladly stray
    Where the freedom I love is found;
Where the pine and oak by the woodman's stroke
    Are disturbed in their ancient bound;
Where the gladsome swain reaps the golden grain,
    And the trout from the stream beguiles;
Then hurrah for the land of the forests grand,
    And the Lake of the Thousand Isles.