The Winter Carnival

WE fear thee not, O Winter !
Though stern thy face and grim ;
Though vast thy strength to crush and rend
Our bodies, limb from limb.
On Scandinavian mountains,
On stormy northern seas,
Our fathers braved thy wrath of yore,
And heeded not thy sullen roar
Amid the bending trees.

They loved thy gusty music,
And from full chests and throats
Rivalled, in happy recklessness,
The Storm-King's boisterous notes ;
They made thee now their playmate,
They made thee now their slave ;
Thy frost-built roads for them to ride,
With fair-haired lemans side by side,
Above the rushing wave.

Over the snows they trod apace,
Adown the drifts they sped ;
They met thy fury face to face,
And all thy shapes of dread.
And though thy wild sport sometimes left
Sights that were sad to see,
Health, beauty, courage, giant thews,
Well braced by salutary use,
Came of their fight with thee.

Such were the hardy Northmen,
By land and sea renowned ;
Such gifts they brought where'er their feet
New resting-places found.
Such gifts to France, to England,
To Scotia's shores, they brought ;
And many a thrice-encircled rath
Still shows on Erin's hills the path
By which they came and fought.

Such gifts to this new Northland
All we of Northern blood,
Tempered by other gentler strains,
Brought with us o'er the flood
To this broad land, where Winter
Is Summer's best ally ;
And with his robe, so soft and white,
Her tender children shields from blight
Beneath the brumal sky.

Ages ago, in battle,
We fairly won the day ;
And, though we still may call him king,
He bears disputed sway.
We make his mighty forces
Obedient to our will ;
Beneath our hands his ice and snow
To wondrous shapes of beauty grow,
Triumphs of art and skill.

Out of his frozen torrents
We carve the glittering mass,
And raise a dome, whose fairy charms
Old Greece could not surpass.
Upon its fair proportions
Men gaze in silent awe,
As those who in a dream behold
The streets of pearl and gates of gold
Which John in Patmos saw.

And who that loveth Nature
Feels not his heart aglow
In presence of our winter woods,
Tinselled with ice and snow !
'Twas just such woodland visions,
With moonlight glimmering down,
Gave pious hearts the rapt desire
To raise the grand cathedral spire
In many a feudal town.

Winter ! if thy anger
Affrights the poor of heart,
Best humoured and most cheery
Of playfellows thou art.
E'en Summer cannot rival
Thy many-sided glee ;
For young and old, for maid and boy,
Thou hast a store of healthy joy
To bind our hearts to thee.

Now, in thy festal season,
We celebrate thy praise ;
For our Canadian Carnival
Send us auspicious days.
All ills that flesh is heir to
Be banished from our train ;
And may the pleasures of the scene
Keep in each heart its memory green
Until we meet again !