Читать книгу Carols of Canada, Etc., Etc - E. S. MacLeod - Страница 8

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Where frowning bulwarks guard the coast

Around our sea-girt Isle, Where wildest winters wreak their wrath,

And sweetest summers smile.

In holy calm of eventide

Which crowned the sunbright day, We sat upon a grassy knoll

That overlooked the bay.

All glorious the lingering light

From out the radiant west, As loath to leave a scene so fair,

Illumined ocean's crest.

Along the path, with quiet tread,

There came an aged form Whose sunburnt features told that he

Had weathered many a storm.

He'd held command in goodly craft

On nigh and far off seas; Had furled the sail on foreign strand,

And scoured 'fore every breeze.

Now, 'yond all lure of worldly wealth

Through commerce on the foam, He anchored where affection set,

Within his childhood's home.

Nor tide, nor wind, nor black storm-cloud

Could bar his passage more, As he waited sailing orders

For glad Beulah's shore.

We asked him, as he rested near,

If he the story knew Of that bleak, lonely cape which stretched

Upon our right hand view.

"I can relate," he said, "the tale

My grandsire told to me:— It happened in the year of grace

Seventeen sixty-three.

"That year the Isle of St. Jean

Was ceded, this you know, To Britain, in the treaty signed

By France, at Fontainebleau.

"French privateers, which robbed our coast,

Were harassed by our men; McKenzie, with a British sloop

Unaided, captured ten.

"One, fleeter than the rest escaped,

Commanded by Le Force; In dread of foes, or unknown seas,

He held a leeward course.

"But all too fast the gallant ship

Bore down towards the bay; Caught on deceitful shifting sands,

A stranded wreck she lay.

"The boats made shore, the crew dispersed,

One officer remained With his commander, and large share

Of ill-won booty gained.

"On yonder cape they pitched a tent,

And from the vessel's store In haste, with slightest interval,

Much precious freight they bore.

"But where 'twas hid no mortal knew;

Folk say within yon grove, Whose crowding giants dull the day,

Exists the treasure-trove.

"Be't so or not, to me it seems

This cursed greed of gold Shuts all the finer feelings out,

Deforms life's fairest mould.

"Rends rare affection's dearest ties,

Transforms the friend to foe; In battlefield of worldly gain

Smites with unsparing blow.

"Repels all humanizing love;

In haste to reach its goal, Draws even from gates of paradise

The earnest, God-ward soul.

"Two daring youths, from hamlet nigh,

Through motives curious, went When friendly even lent its shades,

Anear the strangers' tent.

"They heard dispute o'er money hoard,

Then louder, wrathful tones, Which hotter, higher, waxed until

They sunk in low, faint moans.

"Next morn three sturdy fishermen

Steered out across the wave; They heeded not the swelling surge,

Their hearts were firm and brave.

"But, Oh! what vision met their gaze!

Upon that silent shore The Captain of the stranded bark

Lay stiffening in his gore.

"Far from his loved in La Belle France, Far from his native plain; Where longing eyes, and yearning hearts Might long for him in vain.

"He died not as the soldier dies;

For country and for king; For him no martial banners wave,

No lyre his praise doth sing.

"Rough hands, but souls of sympathy,

Entombed him where he fell; While sounding ocean wailed his dirge,

And wavelets rang his knell.

"Now, until ocean yields her dead,

Till dries yon river's source, That cape, baptizèd with his blood,

Shall bear the name 'Le Force.'"

He paused. "What of the murderer?

And what to him befell?" "He fled, from that dread hour of guilt

No tongue his fate could tell.

"No legal technicality

Could paint his black as white, Or color with a golden tinge The blackness of his night.

"Though richly-garbed, accomplished vice

May bide the Final Day; With brutal, prompt, unstudied crime

The law brooks no delay.

"His was no deed of villain art

Which slowly works its will, Which wiles its victim to his death,

And slays with callous skill.

"It may be that a Higher Judge

Could measure best his crime; And that, through penitence he found

Pardon and peace in time."

The sun had sunk beneath the wave,

The moon had risen on high; And glorified, with silvery beams,

The earth, and sea, and sky.

Light zephyrs thrilled on ocean's chords,

Through wavelet's hum and flow; Alas! that scene surpassing fair,

Should sin or sorrow know.

Alas! that guilt, or causeless woe

Should darken nature's smile; As that foul deed, the first to blight

With crime Prince Edward Isle.