The Icelandic Canadian - 01.06.1973, Side 20

IB
THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN
SUMMER 1973
TOAST TO CANADA
by Gus Sigurdson
Green are the fields and blue the sky;
Bright is the sun in the heavens high.
The earth, that yields, is in bloom today,
And proud is the one, who has room to say
“All this is mine. I keep it free.
Canada truly belongs to me.”
White is the snow on the highest peaks
Of the Rocky Mountains and Lo! it speaks
In the silvery glow of a waterfall
Through a bluish haze. Maintains to all —
This is my land. Oh! keep it free!
Canada truly belongs to me.
Swift are the rivers that run below;
Thick are the woods where the wild deer go
Grazing, with never a sound—unheard—
All understood is the song of a bird
That merrily sings on the branch of a tree.
Canada truly belongs to me.
Wide is the sweep of the open plains;
Fresh is the smell of summer rains,
That bury deep in the roots of wheat
Growing well in the summer heat.
Breathing this breath to a full degree—
Canada truly belongs to me.
Peaceful the beach on lush lake shores;
Quick be the fish to sense the oars
As fishemen reach for net or bait
To capture a dish to delight the mate,
Such is the life in a land most free—
Canada truly belongs to me.
Canadian woods in early years
Were wild, but brave were the pioneers
Of Icelandic blood, who wrote one page
At Gimli, and gave a heritage
To each their sons for time to be.
Canada truly belongs to me.