By now my life work’s writ for all to read,

a page or two to come, a postscript p’raps

made right by family, friends, who fill the gaps;

who I really was, what was my true creed.

They’ll get it wrong, (I call out from the grave!

They’ll miss my most important fact of life!)

Obsessed with private loves and public strife

they’ll concentrate on fool or imp or knave.

They will not know my era, my small span,

a time when Canada was truly great

when sacrifices opened freedom’s gate

those special years, the pride of everyman.

For that while, my line was drawn in the sand.

Our days were new, our nation in God’s hand.