The Icelandic Canadian - 01.06.1957, Side 50

48
THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN
Summer 1957
SASKATCHEWAN RIVER
by ELMA HELGASON
Muddy Saskatchewan, rumbling and roaring,
Mighty the glaciers that gave you a birth;
Down from the mountains, thy waters come pouring,
Gathering silt, as they course through the earth.
On through the foothills, where bison unnumbered,
Blackened the hills in the long, long ago.
Down by thy banks, there, the red men have slumbered,
Safe in their teepees, set row upon row.
Sing O Saskatchewan! sing of the mountains!
Sing of the foothills, so wide and so free!
Sing of the Bighorn, that drinks at thy fountains,
Sing for the red man, a sad litany.
Down through the plains, now, where red men lie sleeping
’Neath where the grain fields shine gold in the sun;
In thy refrain, could it be, there is weeping?
Sighing for love of a race that is gone?
Sing O, Saskatchewan! down through the prairies,
Cease now thy tumult, the way is so long;
Many a heart will be touched as it tarries,
Seeking to fathom the depths of thy song.
Sing of the commerce that came to thy portals,
Cities that shine, like the stars in the night;
Progress amazing to even us mortals,
Knowledge increasing, with time, in its flight.
Sing on thy way then, Saskatchewan river,
Sing to the world, the song of the west;
Sing of the great hearts, whose deeds live forever,
May that song ever be happy and blest!