England has given us the names
To adorn Canadian Thames,
And charms to them she has lent
In Oxford, Middlesex and Kent,
She Essex kisseth in her mouth,
And Scottish names, one north, one south,
And London now it justly claims
'Tis capital of vale of Thames,
And her strong castellated tower
Doth on the river frowning lower,
And Chatham is the river's port,
There slaves for freedom did resort,
And they did industrious toil,
And now many own the soil,
Stratford now shall be our theme,
On Avon tributary stream,
And its clear waters it doth launch
Into the Thames northern branch,
Near that substantial stone town
St. Mary's with mills of renown,
Westward it winds past each town,
Growing broader as it flows down,
Onward it glides never weary,
Meandering so soft and cheery.
The sunbeam on the waters glance,
Skipping about in silvery dance,
From morn till eve the cattle feed
'Neath lofty elms along the mead.
And on its banks in warrior pride
The brave Tecumseh fought and died,
And it has now historic claims
The famous battle of the Thames.
Now soon the waters meet and pair
With the wavelets of St. Clair,
As maids when wed do lose their names,
No longer it is called the Thames.
Rejoicing on its way it smiles,
Kissing the shores of Thousand Isles,
Mingling with St. Lawrance motion,
It soon is blended with the ocean.