O, the East is but West, with the sun a little hotter;
And the pine becomes a palm, by the dark Egyptian water:
And the Nile’s like many a stream we know, that fills its brimming cup,—
We’ll think it is the Ottawa, as we track the batteaux up!
Pull, pull, pull! as we track the batteaux up!
It’s easy shooting homeward, when we’re at the top!
O, the cedar and the spruce line each dark Canadian river;
But the thirsty date is here, where the sultry sunbeams quiver;
And the mocking mirage spreads its view, afar on either hand;
But strong we bend the sturdy oar, towards the Southern land!
O, we’ve tracked the Rapids up, and o’er many a portage crossing;
And it’s often such we’ve seen, though so loud the waves are tossing!
Then, it’s homeward when the run is o’er! o’er stream, and ocean deep—
To bring the memory of the Nile, where the maple shadows sleep!
And it yet may come to pass, that the hearts and hands so ready
May be sought again to help, when some poise is off the steady!
And the Maple and the Pine be matched, with British Oak the while,
As once beneath Egyptian suns, the Canadians on the Nile!
Pull, pull, pull! as we track the batteaux up!
It’s easy shooting homeward, when we’re at the top!
William Wye Smith.
