I show’d you swarthy, sunburnt faces,
Born of the mix’d and alien races.

I show’d you how the tropic noon

And how the story old is found
Upon this new and northern ground.

I show’d you how the solemn crowd
Within the great Cathedral bow’d.

The tall Basilica has lifted
High towers above where we have drifted.

Its golden cross has far to shine;

For all the Pèche, the Pickanoe,
And all the gleaming Gatineau.

O how leapt our spirits up,
(Like the crystal in the cup.)

Shy and slim, brown-ey’d, fifteen,
With her fearless walk and mien,

And her songs of twenty verses,

Long we lay and listen’d, lying,
Trusty oars no longer plying,

Stretch’d beneath the sumach’s shade,
While the fearless dark-ey’d maid

And the intervals so tender
Made our sordid souls surrender

To a modern “nutt browne mayde,”

Darkest eyes and olive cheek,
Eyes both mischievous and meek.

Do thou not, my friend, forget
Dainty featur’d Nicolette,

In the antique measur’d verse,
Quaint tirade and metre terse.

       *        *        *        *        *
So when danger threaten’d, we

Bade farewell to island, shore,
Open roof and forest floor,
Languidly upheld the oar.