MONTREAL CARNIVAL SPORTS.
1884.
The Frost-King sat on a throne of snow, On a plain in the Royal Isle: In his hand a sceptre of ice he bore, On his brow a crown of ice he wore, And his face was set in a holiday smile, When he bade the carnival trumpet blow For the famous Sports to begin. The voluble hills returned the din In echoes that travelled o’er many a mile; O’er the broad St. Lawrence to St. Helen’s Isle, To the sounding rapids of old Lachine, To the Boucherville woods with their tufts of green, And the peaceful hamlets that smiled between.
A multitude vast as the waves of the sea, When Tritons rejoice that the winds are free, People from far off Southern lands, Where the eagle exults on outspread vans,— People who came from the prairied West, And pine-clad East, and numbers untold Of natives who laughed at the teeth of the cold Were there for a gala-day, threefold blest.
The trumpeter wight was an Arctic sprite, Whose limbs were lank and whose locks were white, And when he had blown with all his might, The Frost-King raised his sceptre high, When it flashed all the lights of a boreal sky, And thus, in accents of festive tone, He welcomed the guests who encircled his throne:—
“Friends! who have journeyed far to share The verve of our Canadian air, Greeting and love to all. ’Tis wise to lay aside each heavy care And all the petty ills that do enthral, To find in ampler scope this lusty joy, This social amity, where no alloy Of turbid passion mingles with the gold Of kindly fellowship: Where harmony betwixt the heart and lip Its primal sanctity delights to hold. Pleasure is native to the heart of man, Here let it freely flow; Here let an ocean tide of gladness roll, Here where no tyrant’s interdict can ban The sacred glow That freedom kindles in the human soul.
Now let the Sports begin, and first Let youths and maids who stand athirst For Canada’s supreme sensation, For motion’s wild intoxication, Launch from yon hills their swift Toboggans. Behold, upon the utmost crest, How democratic Jones and Scroggins With Lords and Ladies freely jest. Blow, trumpet, blow! The signal sound how well they know! Down, down they plunge, what frantic speed! No lightning-shod celestial steed E’er swifter clove the azure air Than headlong down the polished slide Those young athletes and damsels ride, Obedient to the trumpet’s blare; Like foamy waves that seek the shore, When red-mouthed storms behind them roar,— Like avalanches loosed from high,— Like meteors rushing down the sky,— They spurn the steep, they leap, they fly, Till on the flats in bubbling joy they pour.
A Sport of more elastic grace Now claims from us its honoured place. Again, my merry sprite, The trumpet sound, and let the night In starry azure veil the face Of Earth, enrobed in purest white. The signal blast the Skaters know, And eagerly—with cheeks aglow, Their costumes varied as the flowers And blossoms that the Summer hours On all the sunny lands bestow— They skim in joy the crystal floor, So full their bliss they ask no more. In sooth it is a goodly show, Twice twenty hundred twinkling feet In fairy flight, advance, retreat, Whilst others, more ambitious still, In loops and scrolls assert their skill. The Champion of a hundred rinks, Behold him there! his bosom mailed With trophies rich; what fancy jinks Those lithe, light limbs that never failed! What complicated, airy links They weave, as weaves a spider’s feet! Till tip-toe wonder, stares and winks, And plauding hands his triumphs greet. What ho! what means yon wild array, In blanket-coats and sashes gay, With red fire armed, that wind this way? Stretching afar for many a mile, Hither they haste in Indian file, Ha! Ha! the rebel horde I know; Blow, Trumpeter, the trumpet blow!— To arms!—the Snowshoe host have sworn To storm our castle walls,—this morn A faithful courier warning gave; Defiant let our war-flag wave! And you, my guests, remain in sight, Spectators of the weirdest fight That ever shook the vault of night.
To arms our veterans! man the walls, Receive them with a million balls Of roaring flame, with dart and brand, And serpents that no mortal hand Can parry; let our trusty Pinch, Who never has been known to flinch, Protect the gates; our princely friend, Great Zero, shall in wrath defend The turrets and the loop-holed walls; Let Blizzard—a tremendous power— In fury guard the centre tower; And Coldsnap, thine the task to shower With fiery hail and blistering squalls, And cannonade of burning snow From every point the reeling foe!
The rebels advance with a shout and a cheer; But they reck not the might of that spectral host, Each warrior chieftain a blood-freezing ghost, Who answered their mirth with a jeer. Strange voices—such sounds as the winter winds make When lattice and casement they wrench at and shake, Were heard in those halls; And such terrible calls As made the most valiant assailant to quake. The castle, a lucent volcano, emits An ocean of flame on the heads of the foe, They waver—they stagger—they lose their five wits, And print their appalling defeat in the snow. Short, sharp and decisive the battle—no breach— In that marvellous structure the rebels could reach. To the mountain, abashed, bearing torches, they fled, Oppressed with the weight of their wounded and dead. The Frost-King, no longer enveloped in wrath, With pity surveyed their laborious path; And then, to the multitude bending, he said:—
“What folly, what ingratitude! To think with such rebellious war This wonder of the world to mar! This temple that in mist and flood And cataract in embryo slept, Till near this Royal Island crept The fluent particles, on which I breathed and wedded each to each, And made the solid lustre rich In dazzling beauty, fit to reach And rival, in these gleaming spires, The loveliness of astral fires, The mellow radiance of the moon. Ah! whether late or soon We with our retinue depart, Is there a single human heart Will mourn our exit? Shall we not Some few months hence be quite forgot? If even so, another year, With equal pleasure, equal cheer, King Frost shall hold his court, we wot, And meet your warmest welcome here.”