Grandpa's poems part 3

Grandpa and Grandma Playfair had a cottage in Lake Connelly, a small town near St. Jerome. This is the southern part of the Laurentians, cottage country for Montrealers. Grandpa loved the place and apparently had to be persuaded to install electricity at the end of the 1950s. To this day there is no running water on the property, so delicate manouevers were taken care of in the hoosegow. Grandpa evidently loved the country, as can be understood in this tribute to that area so special to him.

Ode to the Laurentians

Mounded and moulded into shape,
Piled up higher and higher
Whilst the earth's crust cracked and heaved and groaned
O'er her heart's volcanic fire.
Gutted and scarred by the glacier's grind
In the ages long ago,
When fiery youth had given place
To the reign of ice and snow.

Warmed by Mother Nature's breath,
Soothed by her kindly hand,
Clothed in such robes of verdure green
As grace our northern land;
Set with many a crystal lake and wanton-flowing stream
That in your vales and down your slopes
Like polished silver gleam;

Oh sun-kissed green Laurentian hills,
Hoary with years untold,
You yet to those who gaze, a tale
Of eternal youth unfold.
As in the countless eons past
You will forever stand,
A monument unto the work
Of God's almighty hand.