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William Henry Drummond - The Wreck Of The Julie Plante
Work rating: Medium

On wan 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 fronte deck, 
        An` walk de hin` deck too—
    He call de crew from up de hole, 
        He call de 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, "Good-bye, ma Rosie dear, 
        I go drown for your sak`." 
    Nex` morning very early
        `Bout ha`f-pas` two—t`ree—four—
    De captinne—scow—an` 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 Lac St. Pierre, 
        Wan arpent from de shore. 

MORAL 
    Now all good wood scow sailor man
        Tak` warning by dat storm
    An` go an` marry some nice French girl
        An` leev on wan beeg farm. 
    De win` can blow lak hurricane
        An` s`pose she blow some more, 
    You can`t get drown on Lac St. Pierre
        So long you stay on shore.
Source
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