May 29, 1915. 
LAND AND .WATER 
CANADA. 
YPRES. April 22 24, 1915. 
[Eeproduced hy special permission 
of the Proprietors of Punch. 
I SAT beneath the great dome of St. Paul's, and all about 
me gathered the people who had come to do homage to 
Canada's dead. Statesmen, men of high place, 
Admirals of the Fleet, generals of division, soldiers 
from the field, Royal ladies. Sisters of Mercy, and 
women and girls from the factory and the shop — they came, 
an endless throng, to pay their tribute to the fallen. Cana- 
dians in the flush and vigour of health had come from their 
camps; and from the hospitals, with shattered bodies and 
crippled limbs, came the wounded and the broken. 
Fathers, whose hopes lay buried in the grave; mothers, 
whose only sons had been taken; brides widowed in their 
bloom, met together to share their grief. And the high and 
low, the great and the humble, the strong and the weak, the 
bereaved and the anxious and the distressed, in that solemn 
hour stood side by side as members of one great family, 
sharing a common fealty to each other, to their country, and 
to their King. 
« « • 
The glorious music rose and fell, and rose again, as if it 
would say: " Honour the brave, chant for the dead ! Exalt 
llhem who pass to their reward I " and organ and drums, and 
brasses and cymbals, and pipes and reeds and strings, 
thundered and rolled and sang in a mighty unison step, tho 
symbols of their faith borne in front of them, passed the long 
procession of choir and priests and bishops. The musio 
faltered, hushed and died, and the solemn ritual began. 
Glory of music rose and beauty of words, homage of 
people and tribute of King! How shall these comfort us? — 
for they, our beloved, are dead. They are gone, in the fulness 
of their strength, and their hopes and their dreams are lying 
in the dust. For them the promise of the years is not, and in 
all the days to come we shall know them no more. 
" He that helieveth in Me, thovfjh he were dead, yet shall 
he live}' 
Oh, stricken father, lift up your head ! The son of your 
youth has passed beyond our mortal vision, yet still he lives 
and presses forward tho banner of his Lord. 
« » » 
But our hearts are heavy. In the morning and in the 
night they are tortured and cry out, remembering how, 
though our love stretched out its arms, it could not reach not 
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