How Prince Arthur Was Welcomed To Pembroke.

A poem by Nora Pembroke

Do you know the town Pembroke so loyal and long
And so worthy the praise of a poet in song?
Nestled down by the lake shore, that ripples and shines,
And hemmed in by the hills with their crowning of pines.
Now this town is that town so wondrous and fair,
Long thought to be but a chateau in the air,
Where the sons are all brave and the daughters all fair.

You may guess what great gladness there rang down the street,
Where the wise and the witty so neighbourly meet,
To compare their opinions to hear something new,
As their friends the Athenians of old used to do,
When the news was to all so gracious and good,
"There is coming to see us a Prince of the blood."
Then all our good people grew loyalty wild
To show love for the Queen as they welcomed her child.
Straightway counsel was ta'en as to what should be done
For to greet as befitted her Majesty's son,
In a way to bring credit and praise to the town.
"We must have an arch at the bridge, and a crown,
And 'Welcome to Arthur,' arranged all so fine
With balsam and tamarack, spruce and green pine;
But the crown shall be flowers, the fairest that blow,
Or are made by deft fingers, from paper you know,
And many a fair one who skilfully weaves
Wreaths and garlands, shall bring them of ripe maple leaves;
And then, as 'Jason Gould' that so snug little boat,
The most cosy, most homelike was ever afloat,
Will not quicken herself for a Prince or for two,
But will at her own pace the Mud Lake paddle through.
It will be about midnight, or later than that,
And as dark as the crown of your grandfather's hat,
When that ponderous boat waddles up to the pier,
A tired Prince will his Highness be when he gets here.
We'll illumine the town, from mansion to cell,
County buildings and cottages, home and hotel,
And the arch with its motto, that triumph of skill,
Shall be seen in its glory by light from the mill,
Which floor upon floor many windowed shall blaze
And light up each bud in the crown with its rays.
We shall have out that carriage, so costly and grand,
Fit to carry the one Royal Prince in this land;
And a crowd bearing torches shall light up the way,
Till along Supple's lane be as brillant as day
And to guard and escort him our brave volunteers
With their swords and their bayonets, which ought to be spears,
Shall wait at the landing for him, and the band
With the noise and the music they have at command,
Shall be heard in the distance before they are seen,
Rolling out the first greeting in "God save the Queen."
Well, the Prince over portages rattled and whirled,
Suspected he drew near the end of the world,
But right royally welcomed, surprised he lit down
In this dazzling, ambitious and long little town.
And the night air was rent with full many a cheer
For joy that the son of our Sovereign was here
And he heard every sound, and he saw every sight,
That the people had planned for to give him delight;
And he felt he was cared for with loyalty's care,
In this wonderful town, so far off, and so fair,
In the whole wide Dominion there is not a town
So loyal so lovely as this of our own
Broad Ottawa washes no happier place,
As it lies in sweet Allumette's tender embrace
Oh, to see it when autumn and sunset unite
To drape earth and sky with one robe of delight,
When the banners of heaven in the west are unrolled,
And the blue lake is barred off with purple and gold,
And the Isle, like the patriarch's favourite son,
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


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,
And blessings that fall as the dew from the skies,
Shall be breathed out for thee our young Prince of the blood,
Son of much loved Victoria and Albert the Good.
May thy heart be all fearless, thy life without stain,
As the saint and the hero are joined in thy name.
Forget not the people whose love thou hast seen
God bless thee Prince Arthur thou, son of our Queen

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