Poem by W. H. Drummond


One dark night on Lac St. Pierre,
De win' she blow, blow, blow,
An' de crew of de wood scow "Julie Plante"
Got scar't an' run below,
For de win' she blow lak hurricane,
Bimeby she blow some more,
An de scow bus' up on Lac St. Pierre
Wan arpent from de shore.

De captinne walk on de front deck,
An' walk de hin' deck, too.
He call de crew from up de hole,
He call the cook also.
De cook she's name was Rosie,
She come from Montreal,
Was chambre maid on lumber barge,
On de Grande Lachine Canal.

De win' she blow from nor' eas' wes',
De sout' win' she blow too,
W'en Rosie cry, "Mon cher captinne,
Mon cher, w'at I shall do?"
Den de captinne t'row de beeg ankerre,
But still de scow she dreef,
De crew he can't pass on de shore,
Becos' he los' hees skeef.

De night was dark lak wan black cat,
De wave run high an' fas',
W'en de captinne tak' de Rosie girl
An' tie her to de mas'.
Den he also tak' de life preserve,
An' jomp off on de lak',
An' say, "Goodbye, ma Rosie dear,
I go drown for your sak'."

Nex' morning very early
'Bout ha'f pas' two, t'ree, four,
De cap-tinne, scow and de poor Rosie
Was corpses on de shore,
For de win' she blow lak hurricane,
Bimeby she blow some more,
An de scow bus' up on Lak St. Pierre,
Wan arpent from de shore.

Now all good wood scow sailor man
Tak' warning by dat storm
An' go marry some nice French girl
An' leev on wan beeg farm.
De win' she blow lak hurricane
An s'pose she blow some more,
You can't get drown on Lak St. Pierre
So long you stay on shore.





Oh the heart is a free and a fetterless thing,--
A wave of the ocean, a bird on the wing!

Julia Pardoe (1816-1862): The Captive Greek Girl.



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