when the croon of a rapid is heard on the breeze,
with the scent of a pine-forest gloom,
or the edge of the sky is of steeple-top trees,
set in hazes of blueberry bloom,
or a song-sparrow sudden from quietness trills
his delicate anthem to me,
then my heart hurries home to the ottawa hills,
wherever i happen to be.
when the veils of a shining lake vista unfold,
or the mist towers dim from a fall,
or a woodland is blazing in crimson and gold,
or a snow-shroud is covering all,
or there's honking of geese in the darkening sky,
when the spring sets hepatica free,
then my heart's winging north as they never can fly,
wherever i happen to be.
when the swallows slant curves of bewildering joy
as the cool of the twilight descends,
and rosy-cheek maiden and hazel-hue boy
listen grave while the angelus ends
in a tremulous flow from the bell of a shrine,
then a faraway mountain i see,
and my soul is in canada's evening shine,
wherever my body may be.
