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William Henry Drummond - Champlain
Work rating: Low

"W`ere `ll we go?" says Pierre de Monts,
    To hese`f as he walk de forwar` deck,
  "For I got ma share of Trois Rivières
    An` I never can lak Kebeck--
  Too moche Nort` Pole--maudit! it’s cole
    Oh! la! la! de win` blow too.
  An` I’m sure w`at I say, M`sieu Pontgravé
    He know very well it’s true.

  But here’s de boat, an` we’re all afloat
    A honder an` fifty ton--
  An` look at de lot of man we got,
    No better beneat` de sun--
  Provision, too, for all de crew
    An` pries` for to say de prayer,
  So mes chers amis, dey can easy see
    De vessel mus` pass somew`ere.

  If I only know de way to go
    For findin` some new an` pleasan` lan`,"
  But jus` as he spik, he turn roun` quick,
    An` dere on de front, sir, stan` de Man.
  "You was callin` me, I believe," says he,
    As brave as a lion--"Tiens!
  W`en we reach de sea, an` de ship is free,
    You can talk wit` Samuel de Champlain." 

  Wan look on hees eye an` he know for w`y
    Young Samuel spik no more,
  So he shake hees han`, an` say, "Young man,
    Too bad you don`t come before;
  But now you are here, we’ll geev` t`ree cheer,
    An` away w`erever you want to go--
  For I lak your look an` swear on de Book
    You’ll fin` de good frien` on Pierre de Monts."

  So de sail’s set tight, an` de win` is right,
    For it’s blowin` dem to de wes`--
  An` dey say deir prayer, for God knows w`ere
    De anchor will come to res`--
  Adieu to de shore dey may see no more--
    Good-bye to de song an` dance--
  De girl dey love, an` de star above
    Kipin` watch on de lan` of France.

  Den it’s "Come below, M`sieu Pierre de Monts,"
    Champlain he say to de capitaine--
  "An` I’ll tell to you, w`at I t`ink is true
    Dough purty hard, too, for understan`--
  I dream a dream an` it alway seem
    Dat God hese`f he was say to me--
  `Rise up, young man, de quick you can
    An` sail your ship on de western sea.

  "`De way may be long, an` de win` be strong,
    An` wave sweep over de leetle boat--
  But never you min`, an` you `re sure to fin`,
    If you trus` in me, you will kip afloat.`
  An` I tak` dat ship, an` I mak` de trip
    All on de dream I was tellin` you--
  An` oh! if you see w`at appear to me,
    I wonder w`at you was a-t`inkin` too?

  "I come on de lan` w`ere dere’s no w`ite man--
    I come on de shore w`ere de grass is green--
  An` de air is clear as de new-born year,
    An` of all I was see, dis lan`s de Queen--
  So I’m satisfy if we only try
    An` fin` if dere’s anyt`ing on ma dream,
  An` I’ll show de way," Champlain is say--
    Den Pierre de Monts he is answer heem,

  "All right, young man, do de bes` you can--
    So long you don`t bring me near Kebeck--
  Or Trois Rivières, not moche I care,
    An` I hope your dream`s comin` out correc`."
  So de brave Champlain he was say, "Tres bien,"
    An` soon he was boss of de ship an` crew
  An` pile on de sail, wedder calm or gale--
    Oh! dat is de feller know w`at to do.

  Don`t I see heem dere wit` hees long black hair
    On de win` blowin` out behin`--
  Watchin` de ship as she rise an` dip,
    An` always follerin` out de Sign?
  An` day affer day I can hear heem say
    To de sailor man lonesome for home an` frien`,
  "Cheer up, mes amis, for soon you will see
    De lan` risin` up on de oder en`."

  Wall! de tam go by, an` still dey cry
    "Oh! bring us back for de familee`s sake."
  Even Pierre de Monts fin` it leetle slow
    An` t`ink mebbe somebody mak` mistake--
  But he don`t geev` in for he’s boun` to win`--
    De young Champlain--an` hees heart grow strong
  W`en de voice he hear say, "Never fear;
    You won`t have to suffer for very long."

  Alone on de bow I can see heem now
    Wan mornin` in May w`en de sun was rise--
  Smellin` de air lak a bloodhoun`, dere--
    An` de light of de Heaven shine on hees eyes.
  A minute or more he is wait before
    He tak` off de hat an` raise hees han`--
  Den down on de knee, sayin`, "Dieu merci!"
    He cross hese`f dere, an` I understan`--

  "Ho! Ho! De Monts! are you down below,
    Sleepin` so soun` on de bed somew`ere?
  If you `re feelin` well, come up an` tell
    W`at kin` of a cloud you be seein` dere."
  Den every wan shout w`en de voice ring out
    Of de young Champlain on dat summer day,
  "Lan`! it is lan`!" cry de sailor man--
    You can hear dem holler ten mile away.

  Port Rossignol is de place dey call
    (I’m sorry dat nam` it was disappear);
  An` mos` ev`ry tree dem Frenchman see
    Got nice leetle bird singin`, "Welcome here."
  An` happy dey were, dem voyageurs
    An` de laugh come out on de sailors` face--
  No wonder, too, w`en de shore dey view,
    For w`ere can you see it de better place?

        *      *      *      *      *      *

  If you want to fin` w`at is lef` behin`
    Of de story I try very hard tell you,
  Don`t bodder me now or raise de row,
    But study de book de sam` I do.
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