There's a grand, grand view unfolding
And it pictures our future goal:
There's a strong, strong army moulding
Our land into one great whole;
There's a world-wide movement holding
Firm the lines of our destiny:
And 'twill never cease
Till the earth finds peace
In the arms of Democracy!

In the Ramah's of our day
Mothers grieve their hearts away,
Mourning comfortless as Rachel did of yore;
Hoping day by day to learn
Of their absent boy's return
And to hear his well-known footsteps at the door.
The lilies are blooming in far-away France—
Bloom O bloom!
The cannons are roaring retreat and advance—
Boom, O boom!
The hell of their fire is falling like rain,
And our soldiers before it are falling like grain,
While the voices of loved ones are calling in vain—
Home, sweet home!

Dear Canadians who fell,
Fighting nobly fighting well,
May the angels guard thy rest in lonely graves;
We'll remember "ridge" and "hill"
And rejoice in knowing, still,
That the dear old flag you died for rules the waves.
The wild birds are lilting their lay on the breeze,
Soft and low:
As they croon to their nestlings asway in the trees,
To and fro—
The young of the robin will flit down the glen
And return in the spring to the dwellings of men,
But the sons of our mothers return not again—
No, ah no!

And the absent from the fold?
What of those, the gay, the bold?
Fighting bravely, dying nobly, to the fore.
Shall we not avenge the slain?
Shall our mothers weep in vain?
Calling, calling for the boys who come no more.
Dear soldier boys dead in the trenches of war,
Work well done!
Your service for country there's nothing can mar,
Fame well won!
They fought for the right in a cause that will win—
They died in a fight that they did not begin—
And you'll pay the last groat when we enter Berlin.
Hun, oh Hun!

I got notice some tam lately
Wrote in Yankee dialec',
Ask me Joe how I spen' Chris'mas
On de 10 range of Kebec;

But ba gosh I don' wrote nottings
Till de New Year pass along.
Chris'mas tam I dance an' fiddle,
Eat an' drink an' sing some song!

Yes ma frien' dis ol' man's happy,
Jus' lak' leetle lamb in May!
Ev'ry year I grow lak young one,
W'en it come to Chris'mas day!

Hip ho-orah! I feel lak dancin',
Play for Joe an' kip good tam,
I'm mos' happy man in Weedon,
On his shanty jus' de sam'.

Come Zavier and clear de room off,
An' one dance to you I'll show,
Dat I learn on Lampton Corners
More as t'irty year ago.

It's call cris-cross two-step, quick step,
Up an' down de center, too;
Right an' lef' and swing you' pardner,
Till de tack fly out her shoe!

Come I'll show you how to do it,
Tak' de one you love de bes',
Den you swing it ro'nd lak swirlwind
Or dat slyclone in de Wes'.

Whoop up gee' jus wash ma dances
An' hole Paul will kip good tam,
On dis side de Lac St. Francis
I can skung dem all de sam'.

T'ro' dat stool on top de corner,
Push dat cradle from de room,
Joe hee's got dis floor for shak' down
An' he'll swip it lak de broom.

Jomp up Jacque! and strak dat ceilin'
Till de dus' fall on you' head—
Come Lucinda! stop dat squealin'
Or we'll sen' you off to bed.

Dis is Chris'mas an' one good one—
Chris'mas come but once a year;
Ope dat stove an' t'row some hood on,
An' we'll have one, two, t'ree cheer!

Rig a gig a gig jus' wash ma moccasin
An' hole Paul you kip good tam!
Pass dat jug aro'nd de grog-is-in,
An we'll have w'at Scotch call "dram."

Pass it ro'nd de room ma Rosie
An' be sure you fill de glass;
Ma Joe sen' me twenty dollair
Jus' las' wick from Lowhell, Mass.

Ev'ry year he sen' me monay
And he sen' some ol' clothes too—
But dem duty charge me custom
Jus' de same lak it was