The Voyageur and Other Poems

Philosopher of many parts, Beloved of all true honest hearts, A man who laughs at every ill, Because there's corn in Egypt still.


So I fill de glass an' I raise it high An' drink to de Voyageur.
Far, far away from hees own vill-age An' soun' of de parish bell.
So de devil ketch heem, of course, at las'.
De moon an' de star above is gone, Yet somet'ing tell me I mus' go on.
So we fin' some fence dot's handy for mese'f an' Rosalie.
Jus' tell dem de news of Gédéon Plouffe— How he jump wit' de familee.
Don't bodder no wan on de school Unless dey bodder heem.
To-night I can hear hees darn ole fiddle, Playin' away on Joe Belair.