Showing posts with label MacKeracher. Show all posts
Showing posts with label MacKeracher. Show all posts

25 April 2022

Ten Poems for National Poetry Month, Number 9: 'My Own Canadian Girl' by W.M. MacKeracher


For the month, the ninth of ten poems
find interesting, amusing, and/or infuriating.

What could be considered romantic verse from W.M. (William MacKay) MacKeracher's Canada, My Land and Other Compositions in Verse (Toronto: William Briggs, 1908).

MY OWN CANADIAN GIRL
                    The demoiselles of sunny France
                         Have gaiety and grace;
                    Britannia's maids a tender glance,
                         A sweet and gentle face;
                    Columbia's virgins bring to knee
                         Full many a duke and earl;
                    But there is none can equal thee,
                         My own Canadian girl.

                    Thy hair is finer than the floss
                         That tufts the ears of corn;
                    Its tresses have a silken gloss,
                         A glory like the morn;
                    I prize the rich, luxuriant mass,
                         And each endearing curl
                    A special grace and beauty has,
                         My own Canadian girl.

                   Thy brow is like the silver moon
                        That sails in summer skies.
                   The mirror of a mind immune
                        From care, serene and wise.
                   Thy nose is sculptured ivory;
                        Thine ears are lobes of pearl;
                   Thy lips are corals from the sea,
                        My own Canadian girl.

                   Thine eyes are limpid pools of light,
                        The windows of thy soul;
                   The stars are not so clear and bright
                        That shine around the pole.
                   The crimson banners of thy cheeks
                        To sun and wind unfurl;
                   Thy tongue makes music when it speaks,
                        My own Canadian girl.

                   God keep thee fair and bright and good
                        As in thy morning hour,
                   And make thy gracious womanhood
                        A still unfolding fiow'r.
                   And stay thy thoughts from trifles vain,
                        Thy feet from folly's whirl,
                   And guard thy life from every stain,
                        My own Canadian girl!