Its coat many coloured and royal has on
Thus fair as a vision, and sweet as a dream,
It burst on the gaze of the son of our Queen,
In the glory of fair Indian summer all drest,
And this was the welcome they felt and expressed


THE WELCOME

We welcome thee Prince to the land of the pine,
For thy mother's sake welcome, as well as for thine,
This town highest up in the Ottawa vale,
With the voice of pine forests gives cheer, and all hail
Our welcome as rude as the mountains may be,
But that cheer is the willing voiced shout of the free
And though rude be our welcome, you'll find us, I ween,
Most lovingly loyal to country and Queen.
Come and see our sweet lake, when its waters' at rest
Chafe not round the islands that sleep on its breast
And our woods many tinted in glory arrayed,
Dyed in rainbows and sunsets illumine the shade.
Come and see our dark rocks frowning sterile and high,
Their brown shoulders bare and upheaved to the sky;
Come and see our grand forests, all echoing round
With the strokes that are bringing their pride to the ground;
Where thousands of workers bold, hardy and free,
Carve out wealth for themselves and an empire for thee
Our river now placid, now surging to foam,
Shall echo kind thoughts that will follow thee home.
All good wishes that tender and prayer like arise,