O, glorious moose!

Ye mighty beast!

Guardian of the sacred maple leaf.

And who would dare challenge your grace?

Your overwhelming presense?

Alas, I too was once great.

O, how the greatness slips away.

Would that I have even an ounce of your radiance;

Fain I shall give my life and limb

To be your nourishment!

But alas, it is not to be,

For you are an herbivore,

And eater of leaves and seeds.

And I?

I am but a lowly omnivore –

There is nothing too sacred for me to shove down my gullet.

Behold, that ravenous maw!

Those grinding jaws, and perfectly cubic teeth!

Would that I be a moose myself,

O, the sweetness that would follow!

But alas, human am I,

The lowliest creature of nature's favor;

For my kind have desecrated the sacred maple leaf,

And stolen its lifeblood for our pancakes.

What deserve I, but a trampling

Beneath your majestic hooves?

O, Canada, how I wish to be a moose!