Now Nature with a lavish hand Has reddened maple, browned the oak; And through the conifers a strand Of upward curling white birch smoke Beseeches us go home, the while From shore to shore of this vast lake, Snow and the cold erase the smile Of the Great Spirit. In their wake Spring shall return to find the scene We left in red and gold quite bare, And with her spendthrift brush, in green She'll leave us word of being there. And loons will shriek, and eagles soar, And herons stalk our island's shore. |