Well have Canadians chosen thee br As the emblem of their land, br Thou noble, spreading maple tree, br Lord of the forest grand; br Through all the changes Time has made, br Thy woods so deep and hoar br Have given their homesteads pleasant shade, br And beauty to their shore. br br Say, what can match in splendor rare br Thy foliage, brightly green, br Thy leaves that wave in summer’s air, br Glossy as satin sheen, br When Spring returns the first art thou, br On mountain or in vale, br With springing life and budding bough, br To tell the joyous tale. br br In Autumn’s hours of cheerless gloom, br How glowing is the dye br Of the crimson robe thou dost assume, br Though it only be to die; br Like the red men who, long years ago, br Reposed beneath thy shade, br And wore a smiling lip and brow br On the pyre their foes had made. br br And e’en in Winter fair art thou, br With many a brilliant gem, br That might adorn fair lady’s brow, br Or deck a diadem; br And better than thy beauty rare, br Or shade thou givest free, br The life-stream of thy branches fair br Thou gen’rous, brave old tree! br br Warmly we pray no deed of harm br May fright thy peaceful shade, br May’st thou ne’er see in war’s alarm br Contending foes arrayed, br But, smiling down on peasants brave, br On honest tranquil toil, br Thy branches ever brightly wave, br Above a happy soil.