And only to the heart that knows of grief,
  Of desolating fire, of human pain,
There comes some purifying sweet belief,
Some fellow-feeling beautiful, if brief. 
  And life revives, and blossoms once again.

A TOAST

There’s wine in the cup, Vancouver,
  And there’s warmth in my heart for you,
While I drink to your health, your youth, and your wealth,
  And the things that you yet will do. 
In a vintage rare and olden,
  With a flavour fine and keen,
Fill the glass to the edge, while I stand up to pledge
  My faith to my western queen.

Then here’s a Ho!  Vancouver, in wine of the bonniest hue,
  With a hand on my hip and the cup at my lip,
And a love in my life for you. 
  For you are a jolly good fellow, with a great, big heart, I know;
So I drink this toast
To the “Queen of the Coast.” 
  Vancouver, here’s a Ho!

And here’s to the days that are coming,
  And here’s to the days that are gone,
And here’s to your gold and your spirit bold,
  And your luck that has held its own;
And here’s to your hands so sturdy,
  And here’s to your hearts so true,
And here’s to the speed of the day decreed
  That brings me again to you.

Then here’s a Ho!  Vancouver, in wine of the bonniest hue,
  With a hand on my hip and the cup at my lip,
And a love in my life for you. 
  For you are a jolly good fellow, with a great, big heart, I know;
So I drink this toast
To the “Queen of the Coast.” 
  Vancouver, here’s a Ho!

LADY ICICLE

Little Lady Icicle is dreaming in the north-land
And gleaming in the north-land, her pillow all a-glow;
  For the frost has come and found her
  With an ermine robe around her
Where little Lady Icicle lies dreaming in the snow.

Little Lady Icicle is waking in the north-land,
And shaking in the north-land her pillow to and fro;
  And the hurricane a-skirling
  Sends the feathers all a-whirling
Where little Lady Icicle is waking in the snow.

Little Lady Icicle is laughing in the north-land,
And quaffing in the north-land her wines that overflow;
  All the lakes and rivers crusting
  That her finger-tips are dusting,
Where little Lady Icicle is laughing in the snow.

Little Lady Icicle is singing in the north-land,
And bringing from the north-land a music wild and low;
  And the fairies watch and listen
  Where her silver slippers glisten,
As little Lady Icicle goes singing through the snow.

Little Lady Icicle is coming from the north-land,
Benumbing all the north-land where’er her feet may go;
  With a fringe of frost before her
  And a crystal garment o’er her,
Little Lady Icicle is coming with the snow.

THE LEGEND OF QU’APPELLE VALLEY