"Listen my child," said the old pine tree, to the little one nestling near, "For the storm clouds troop together to-night, and the wind of the north I hear...
I know very well t'was purty hard case If dere 's not on de worl' some beeger place Dan village of Cote St. Paul, But we got mebbe sixty-five house or more Wit' de blacksmit' shop an' two fine store...
W'at's all dem bell a ringin' for, a can hear dem ev'ry w'ere? W'at's bring de peop' togeder on de w'arf at Trois Rivieres, Dat happy crowd is look so glad, w'y are dey comin' dere?...
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...
You can sew heem up in a canvas sack, An' t'row heem over boar' You can wait till de ship she 's comin' back Den bury heem on de shore For dead man w'en he 's dead for sure,...
Go easy wit' de paddle, an' steady wit' de oar Geev rudder to de bes' man you got among de crew, Let ev'ry wan be quiet, don't let dem sing no more W'en you see de islan' risin' out of Grande Lac Manitou...
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,...
This Life, which seems so fair, Is like a bubble blown up in the air By sporting children's breath, Who chase it everywhere And strive who can most motion it bequeath....
My lute, be as thou wert when thou didst grow With thy green mother in some shady grove, When immelodious winds but made thee move, And birds their ramage did on thee bestow....
Sweet bird, that sing'st away the early hours Of winters past or coming, void of care, Well pleased with delights which present are, (Fair seasons, budding sprays, sweet-smelling flowers)...
Two honder year ago, de worl' is purty slow Even folk upon dis contree 's not so smart, Den who is travel roun' an' look out de pleasan' groun' For geev' de Yankee peop' a leetle start?...
Was workin' away on de farm dere, wan morning not long ago, Feexin' de fence for winter, 'cos dat's w'ere we got de snow! W'en Jeremie Plouffe, ma neighbor, come over an' spik wit' me,...