Centuries past Indians came
To this sacred spot each year,
To give thanks for rivers of fish
And forests full of bear and deer.
They loaded wild flowers and fruit
In a frail birch-bark canoe,
Then adorned the fairest maid as
Bride of the great Manitou.
The current swiftly carried her
To the plunging brink, they say,
Then instantly she disappeared
In the midst of swirling spray.
The red man's customs slipped away
With passing of the ages,
References alone remain
On history's faint pages.
Now newly weds visit the falls
Year around from June to June --
Our city is world renowned as
First choice for a honeymoon.
Still the thundering cataracts
By ominous roar proclaim --
Though power is harnessed for hydro,
Beauty and wonder bring fame.
