I LOVE THE LAND WHERE I WAS BORN.


[The following poem appeared in the _Sherbrooke (P. Q.) Gazette_,
sometime in the winter of 1863, and was the last article prepared by
Miss JOHNSON for the press. It is of special interest for having been
written during the dark days of the war in the United States, and when
the sympathy of England and Canada for the North was by many
questioned.]

I love the land where I was born,
'Tis a noble land and good;
It has many a field of wheat and corn
Where once the forest stood;
It has many a town and city grand,
Where the Savage used to roam;
To the poor of every other land
It offers a peaceful home.

I'm proud of the land where I was born,
I'm proud of the Parent Isle,
Whose banners float at the gates of morn,
And the gates of eve the while.
And my pulses leap with a joyous thrill,
Wherever they take the lead,
And join their hands with a hearty will
In doing a noble deed.