Ô Canada! Terre de nos aïeux,
Ton front est ceint de fleurons glorieux!
Car ton bras sait porter l’épée,
Il sait porter la croix!
Ton histoire est une épopée
Des plus brillants exploits.Et ta valeur, de foi trempée,
Protégera nos foyers et nos droits
Protégera nos foyers et nos droits.
Sous l’œil de Dieu, près du fleuve géant,
Le Canadien grandit en espérant,
Il est né d’une race fière,
Béni fut son berceau;
Le ciel a marqué sa carrière
Dans ce monde nouveau.
Toujours guidé par Sa lumière,
Il gardera l’honneur de son drapeau,
Il gardera l’honneur de son drapeau.
De son patron, précurseur du vrai Dieu,
Il porte au front l’auréole de feu;
Ennemi de la tyrannie,
Mais plein de loyauté,
Il veut garder dans l’harmonie
Sa fière liberté.
Et par l’effort de son génie,
Sur notre Sol asseoir la vérité,
Sur notre Sol asseoir la vérité!
Amour sacré du trône et de l’autel
Remplis nos cœurs de ton souffle immortel.
Parmi les races étrangères
Notre guide est la foi;
Sachons être un peuple de frères,
Sous le joug de la loi;
Et répétons comme nos pères
Le cri vainqueur: « Pour le Christ et le Roi »
Le cri vainqueur: « Pour le Christ et le Roi. »
I often take these nightshift walks when the foreman’s not around.
I turn my back on the cooling stacks and make for open ground.
Far out beyond the tank-farm fence where the gas-flare makes no sound,
I forget the stink and I always think back to that Eastern town.
I remember back six years ago, this Western life I chose.
And every day, the news would say some factory’s going to close.
Well, I could have stayed to take the dole, but I’m not one of those.
I take nothing free, and that makes me an idiot, I suppose.
So I bid farewell to the Eastern town I never more will see;
But work I must, so I eat this dust and breathe refinery.
Oh I miss the green and the woods and streams, and I don’t like cowboy clothes,
But I like being free, and that makes me an idiot, I suppose.
So come all you fine young fellows who’ve been beaten to the ground.
This western life’s no paradise, but it’s better than lying down.
Oh, the streets aren’t clean, and there’s nothing green, and the hills are dirty brown,
But the government dole will rot your soul back there in your home town.
So bid farewell to the Eastern town you never more will see.
There’s self-respect and a steady cheque in this refinery.
You will miss the green and the woods and streams and the dust will fill your nose.
But you’ll be free, and — just like me — an idiot, I suppose.
This slogan of the 207th has
been made the title of a
stirring song dedicated to
the 207th Battalion — Read it — Words by Miss Esther Knott.
Music by Donald Heins.
How would you care to see the old flag down, boys,
Would you care to see her dragged in the mire?
Could you bear to hear it said
That you crawled beneath the bed,
While the rest of us were standing up to fire?
Would you care to hear the Kaiser was in England;
That his fleet was on the way to Old Quebec?
Would you care to have the girls
With the pretty golden curls,
See you get a German bayonet in the neck?
Come on the (sic) boys, this is your flag,
And it surely means to you
That the world expects to see your tag
And believes that you’ll be true.
Come on, boys, this is your flag,
Show the red blood — and the blue —
For the men are white —
Who join the fight —
And surely you’ll be true.
In geography, bight has two meanings. A bight can be simply a bend or curve in any geographical feature — usually a bend or curve in the line between land and water.
Alternatively, the term can refer to a large (and often only slightly receding) bay. It is distinguished from a sound by being shallower. Traditionally explorers defined a bight as a bay that could be sailed out of on a single tack in a square-rigged sailing vessel, regardless of the direction of the wind (typically meaning the apex of the bight is less than 25 degrees from the edges).
* * *
Trinity Bight is a large area of the Northwestern portion of Trinity Bay, Newfoundland and Labrador, Canada. The bight contains the communities of New Bonaventure, Old Bonaventure, Trouty, Dunfield, Goose Cove, Trinity, Trinity East, Port Rexton, Champney’s Arm, Champney’s West, Champney’s East, and English Harbour.