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.
