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We have here a sight as fair
As bonnie Doon or banks of Ayr,
Like modest worth meandering slow
The quiet waters gently flow,
Rose, thistle, shamrock, all combine,
Around the maple leaf to twine,
Whose outstretched arms so gigantic
Clasp Pacific and Atlantic,
Embracing lakes like burnished gold,
With joy a Shakespeare might behold,
For either Poet Burns or Moore
Such scenery they would adore.