Some Pioneers

Sore bruised and tempest-tossed, the Golden Hind Had sought in vain the fabled Straits to find; Brave Francis Drake sailed South from ice and snow, From these our shores, three hundred years ago.

And then in seventeen and ninety-two, Vancouver, keen observer, held untrue Tales of the river—Spanish lies said he— That laves our homesteads on its way to sea.

Simon Fraser, dreaming a wondrous dream, Faced countless perils on his mighty stream, Only to find its outlet barred to him When but a stone's throw from the ocean's brim.

Though none gained all, each aided wisdom's store, And only 'tis in mythologic lore One sprang full-armoured from the head of Jove— We win by striving, as our forebears strove.