Ah! never did I feel more acutely the truth of the proverb, "Those
that go a-borrowing go a-sorrowing," than I did that night. My poor
boy awoke ill and feverish, and I had no light to assist him, or
even to look into his sweet face, to see how far I dared hope that
the light of day would find him better.
OH CANADA! THY GLOOMY WOODS
A song
Oh Canada! thy gloomy woods
Will never cheer the heart;
The murmur of thy mighty floods
But cause fresh tears to start
From those whose fondest wishes rest
Beyond the distant main;
Who, 'mid the forests of the West,
Sigh for their homes again.
I, too, have felt the chilling blight
Their shadows cast on me,
My thought by day - my dream by night -
Was of my own country.
But independent souls will brave
All hardships to be free;
No more I weep to cross the wave,
My native land to see.
But ever as a thought most bless'd,
Her distant shores will rise,
In all their spring-tide beauty dress'd.
To cheer my mental eyes.
And treasured in my inmost heart,
The friends I left behind;
But reason's voice, that bade us part,
Now bids me be resign'd.
