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Robert Kirkland Kernighan

The Khan's Canticles 23

Spring or autumn, never whine,

For your own good name.
Sometimes she '11 be cross and cold,
Never mind, she 's good as gold
Let her have her little scold

And kiss her just the same.

When there 's something wrong with baby

Kiss her ev'ry day,
'Twill help to sooth her worry, may be

Kiss her ev'ry day.
Kiss her when her soul is sad,
Kiss her when her heart is glad ;
Be your fortune good or bad,

Kiss her every day.

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Canada First

To home and Country shouts we raise I
For Home and Land to Heaven we cry !

In Home and Country let us live
For Home and Land we stand to die !

This Land us bred : these Hills are ours :
These Mighty Floods that seaward roll

We know no masters but ourselves
We know no bounds this side the pole !

God gave to us these Reaching Woods :
The Spreading Lakes we sail upon ;

We hold them for our children's right
And who is he intrudes thereon?

And we shall till the Rolling Plains
That reach into the setting sun ;

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That The Rain Rains On

I stand by the grave the old-time grave

In the drift of the falling rain ;
My heart goes back to an afternoon

In the spring of life again,
When mother was carried the churchyard thro',

When April was dead and gone ;
And a voice said ' Happy, happy, happy,

Happy the corpse that the rain rains on.'

My heart went back much further yet,

To a time when mother and I
Stood out on the wet and the shining grass,

While above was the clearing sky ;
She plucked a lilac all drooping wet

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i8 The Kuan's Canticles

I hush the wail along my trail
Past hamlet, home and hollow,

While on I go with noiseless flow
And robin red-breasts follow.

And like a psalm, benign and calm,

I blight the brow of winter ;
I snap the chains that hold the reins

The fields of ice I splinter ;
And like the tide I run and ride,

The bated winds I swallow ;
Triumphant still past rock and rill,

And robin red-breasts follow.

A wing of light from night to night

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The City Of Damn-His Soul

He was nursed and cursed : he lied and died,

In the City of Damn-His-Soul ;
He was mothered and smothered in the slimy tide

Of the City of Damn-His-Soul,
And, strange to say, there were preachers there,

And temples, many and broad ;
But he never had taught him the simplest prayer,

Or had heard of the word of God !
For nobody cared for the poor galoot,

And fewer had cared for his soul
For they said that Hell had a new recruit

From the City of Damn-His-Soul.

But the angels they waited, outside the gate

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Sunshine Always Follows Rain

It washed the faint and anxious grasses,

Through all this splendid latitude ;
And trees, and flowers and ferns in masses

Sent up a hymn of gratitude.
They felt the cooling breezes blow ;

They felt no more the sultry pain ;
And well the pretty creatures know

That sunshine always follows rain.

The wide Dominion naught could move her,

Move her like the thunder wet ;
From Halifax to far Vancouver

The gladsome cry is sounding yet.
Somewhere now the showers are falling

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