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When 'ere I feel my spirits start to wane
In longing for my home town on the Bay,
I close my eyes and dream of her again,
My mind returning to a boyhood day.
Whether diving from the dock on Quinte's shore
Or skating on the Mill Pond's frozen face
In reverie, I'm there once more. This town's our core.
Our link to reach our past; our saving grace.
Yes, she has spanned the years from early role,
When steam and steel were king. The Rathbun years
Of logs and rails and engines black as coal
To our to-day. She stands so proud. No peers.
Your history is your strength; your youth is power.
One hundred years have gone. Now comes your finest hour.
- Wayne Cassidy