O Maple Leaf!

Thee best of leaves I love,         In forest or in grove,                     O Maple Leaf;         O thou which art the sign         Of this dear land of mine,         What loveliness is thine,                     O Maple Leaf!         Naught can with thee compare,         On earth or in the air,                     O Maple Leaf;         Wondrous thy beauties are;         Thy form is like a star,         But thou art not afar,                     O Maple Leaf.         When drops of dew adorn         Thy surface in the morn,                     O Maple Leaf,         No hue so fair is seen,         In silk or satin's sheen,         As thy rich shade of green,                     O Maple Leaf.         No music in my ear         Is half so sweet to hear,                     O Maple Leaf,         As that which thou dost make         When winds of summer shake         The branches of the brake,                     O Maple Leaf.         Most beautiful in pain,         When suns begin to wane,                     O Maple Leaf,         Thou never growest old,         But in the time of cold         Thou turnest but to gold,                     O Maple Leaf.         And when the earth expires,         And mute are all her choirs,                     O Maple Leaf,         Thy dower thou dost shed         Of tribute, richest red,         Upon her sombre bed,                     O Maple Leaf.         May heaven bless thy land,         And make it strong to stand,                     O Maple Leaf;         For it we humbly pray         That God will be its stay,         Now, henceforth, and for aye,                     O Maple Leaf.