When this country it was woody,
Its great champion Mrs. Moody,
Showed she had both pluck and push
In her work roughing in the bush.
For there alone she did dwell
At time McKenzie did rebel,
Outbreak her husband strove to quell,
Her own grand struggles she doth tell.
Round bush life she threw a glory,
Pioneer renowned in story,
But her tale it is more cheering
When she wrote about the clearing.
Her other sister Mrs. Traill
Though eighty-seven she doth not fail,
She now is writing of wild flowers
Grown in Canada’s woody bowers.