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William Henry Drummond - Ole Tam On Bord-A-Plouffe
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I lak on summer ev`ning, w`en nice cool win` is blowin`
  An` up above ma head, I hear de pigeon on de roof,
To bring ma chair an` sit dere, an` watch de current flowin`
  Of ole Riviere des Prairies as she pass de Bord-a Plouffe.

But it seem dead place for sure now, on shore down by de lan`in`--
  No more de voyageurs is sing lak dey was sing alway--
De tree dey`re commence growin` w`ere shaintee once is stan`in`,
  An` no one scare de swallow w`en she fly across de bay.

I don`t lak see de reever she`s never doin` not`in`
  But passin` empty ev`ry day on Bout de l`ile below--
Ma ole shaloup dat`s lyin` wit` all its timber rottin`
  An` tam so change on Bord-a Plouffe since forty year ago!

De ice dat freeze on winter, might jus` as well be stay dere,
  For w`en de spring she`s comin` de only t`ing I see
Is two, t`ree piqnique feller, hees girl was row away dere,
  Don`t got no use for water now, on Riviere des Prairies.

`Twas diff`rent on dem summer you couldn`t see de reever,
  Wit` saw-log an` squar` timber raf`, mos` all de season t`roo--
Two honder man an` more too--all busy lak de beaver,
  An` me! I`m wan de pilot for ronne `em down de "Soo."

Don`t `member lak I use to, for now I`m gettin` ole, me--
  But still I can`t forget Bill Wade, an` Guillaume Lagassé,Joe Monferrand, Bazile Montour--wit` plaintee I can`t tole, me,
  An` king of all de Bord-a Plouffe, M`sieu` Venance Lemay.

Lak small boy on hees lesson, I learn de way to han`le
  Mos` beeges` raf` is never float upon de Ottawaw,
Ma fader show me dat too, for well he know de channel,
  From Dutchman Rapide up above to Bout de l`ile en bas.

He`s smart man too, ma fader, only t`ing he got de bow-leg,
  Ridin` log w`en leetle feller, mebbe dat`s de reason w`y,
All de sam`, if he`s in hurry, den Bagosh! he`s got heem no leg
  But wing an` fedder lak oiseau, was fly upon de sky!

O dat was tam we`re happy, an` man dey`re alway singin`,
  For if it`s hard work on de raf`, w`y dere`s your monee sure!
An` ev`ry summer evenin`, ole Bord-a Plouffe she`s ringin`
  Wit` "En Roulant ma Boulé" an` "J`aimerai toujour."

Dere dey`re comin` on de wagon! fine young feller ev`ry wan too,
  Dress im up de ole tam fashion, dat I lak for see encore,
Yellin` hooraw! t`roo de village, all de horse upon de ronne too,
  Ah poor Bord-a Plouffe! she never have dem tam again no more!

Very offen w`en I`m sleepin`, I was feel as if I`m goin`
  Down de ole Riviere des Prairies on de raf` de sam as den--
An` ma dream is only lef` me, w`en de rooster commence crowin`
  But it can`t do me no harm, `cos it mak me young again.

An` upon de morning early, wen de reever fog is clearin`
  An` sun is makin` up hees min` for drive away de dew,
W`en young bird want hees breakfas`, I wak` an` t`ink I`m hearin`
  Somebody shout "Hooraw, Bateese, de raf` she`s wait for you."

Dat`s voice of Guillaume Lagassé was call me on de morning
  Jus` outside on de winder w`ere you look across de bay,
But he`s drown upon de Longue "Soo," wit` never word of warning
  An` green grass cover over poor Guillaume Lagassé.
I s`pose dat`s meanin` somet`ing--mebbe I`m not long for stay here,
  Seein` all dem strange t`ing happen--dead frien` comin` roun` me so--
But I`m sure I die more happy, if I got jus` wan more day here,
  Lak we have upon de ole tam Bord-a Plouffe of long ago!
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