The Red Canoe

A poem by William Henry Drummond

De win' is sleepin' in de pine, but O! de night is black!
An' all day long de loon bird cry on Lac Wayagamack,
No light is shinin' by de shore for helpin' steer heem t'roo
W'en out upon de night, Ubalde he tak' de red canoe.

I hear de paddle dip, dip, dip! wance more I hear de loon,
I feel de breeze was show de way for storm dat 's comin' soon,
An' den de sky fly open wit' de lightning splittin' t'roo,
An' 'way beyon' de point I see de leetle red canoe.

It 's dark again, but lissen how across Wayagamack
De tonder 's roarin' loud, an' now de mountains answer back,
I wonder wit' de noise lak dat, he hear me, le bon Dieu
W'en on ma knee I ax Heem save de leetle red canoe!

Is dat a voice, so far away, it die upon ma hear?
Or only win' was foolin' me, an' w'isperin' "Belzemire?"
Yaas, yaas, Ubalde, your Belzemire she 's prayin' hard for you,
An' den again de lightning come, but w'ere 's de red canoe?

Dey say I 'm mad, dem foolish folk, cos w'en de night is black
An' w'en de wave lak snow-dreef come on Lac Wayagamack
I tak' de place w'ere long ago we use to sit, us two,
An' wait until de lightning bring de leetle red canoe.

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