Chapter_137

2 0 00

Our ancient custom to renew,

We meet to honor St. Andrew,

He was of the Jewish nation,

A fisherman by occupation;

No warlike knight with lance and sword

But humbly following his Lord;

And Scotia she justly claims

Her soil contains his last remains,

In early times the Pilgrims drew

Into the shrine of St. Andrew,

For miracles it gained renown,

And thence sprang up St. Andrew’s town;

Now clansmen twine round maple leaf,

When rallying at the call of chief,

And time will come when we’ll be one,

And proud of name Canadian,

But Scotia must not be forgot

For sake of Chalmers, Burns and Scott,

But here upon Canadian soil

A man may own where he doth toil,

For here each may enjoy the charm

Of owning fine prairie farm.