Centennial Prize Ode.

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Centennial Prize Ode.
W. P. Dole
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Mr. W. P. Dole, of St. John, was awarded the Globe’s prize for the Centennial Ode, out of thirty-seven competitors. The following is the Ode: - Out from the lovely land that gave them birth, From pleasant homes that generous charms displayed, From sacred altars, and the hallowed earth Where their forefathers slept, in honor laid, Our grandsires passed, a brave, determined, brand. Driven by hard Fate – As men were driven of old, Whose story hath been told, In lofty epic strain, To plant, with toil and pain, Upon a distant shore, and in a strange, wild, land A new and glorious State. Now, on this festal day, Wake the proud spirit they Gave to their sons, Still warm within their veins, Pure still from falsehood’s stains, Their true blood runs. Though on their way no cloudy columns of fire. Shielded from harm, and lit the gloomy night, Led by the lights which noble thoughts inspire, With calm resolve to firmly do the right, They left the rest to Him whose will doth reign, In Earth and Heaven; - In all whose works they saw The Order, Truth and Law, They sought to keep, Fixed as foundations deep, That should their Faith and State and Liberty sustain, Where’er new homes were given. Nor were their labors vein, Here shall their faith remain, Spotless and free; Here wise and equal laws Still shall uphold the cause Of truth and liberty. ‘Mid Savage scenes, and in the forests wild, our fathers toiled with patient, manly hearts, Till stubborn rocks and lonely wild-woods smiled With golden, harvest fruits, and happy arts of peace and industry enriched the land, with bounteous store; Brave wives and daughters cheered, All that was dark, nor feared, With ready hands to bear, In each sore a task to share, Till large, and bright, and fair, - A goodly heritage, - they saw their country stand, Far along hill and dale and sounding shore. Nor want, nor climate cold, Chilled the breasts strong and bold, Loyal and true, Which pain and weariness, - All forms of dire distress, - Failed to subdue. Where once stood unbroken, pathless forests stood, Where savage men and beasts alone held sway, While shadowy steams flowed on their silent way, Now commerce spreads her fertilizing flood, And crowds with busy life each river, port, and bay; Cities and towns and temples fair, Thousands of happy homes stand where Driven by stern decree of fate. And by the burning hate, Of brothers armed in an unnatural war, Our Loyalists, one hundred years ago, Led by the pale North Star, Founded the free young state, We as our own New Brunswick know. And now, forgetting all the fratricidal strife, Forgiving all the wrong their sires endured, The Sons of Loyalists, enjoying the large life, By toil and hope and faith and love secured. Welcome with open hand and heart, Welcome with friendship loyal and true, Each man who bears his honest part, And does what his Duty bids him do, No matter what his nation’s name, No matter whence or when he came, - Welcome give all, for their dear sake, Who fortune, hope, lives put at stake, That all mankind might know, From what a mighty race they sprung. Our sires, who here to Duty clung, One hundred years ago. Wide over hills and plain, Sound the triumphant strain, That hymns their praise, High in the free, glad air, The grand old banner bear, They loved to raise. Still as its ample folds, Where’er unfurled, Float in the sky, There sacred freedom holds, In-front of all the world, Her standard high!