William Henry Drummond

(13 April, 1854 – 6 April, 1907 / Mohill, County Leitrim)

William Henry Drummond Poems

1. The Habitants Jubilee Ode 4/12/2010
2. My Little Cabane 4/12/2010
3. The Canadian Magpie 4/12/2010
4. The Grand Seigneur 4/12/2010
5. The Dublin Fusilier 4/12/2010
6. The Hill Of San Sebastian 4/12/2010
7. The Cure Of Calumette 4/12/2010
8. Marie Louise 4/12/2010
9. The Oyster Schooner 4/12/2010
10. The Old Sexton 4/12/2010
11. Mon Choual 4/12/2010
12. National Policy 4/12/2010
13. Ole Docteur Fiset 4/12/2010
14. The Corduroy Road 4/12/2010
15. Mon Frere Camille 4/12/2010
16. Maxime Labelle 4/12/2010
17. Strathcona's Horse 4/12/2010
18. Two Hundred Years Ago 4/12/2010
19. The Habitants Summer 4/12/2010
20. Memories 4/12/2010
21. The Rose Delima 4/12/2010
22. The Old Pine Tree 4/12/2010
23. Pelang 4/12/2010
24. The Old House And The New 4/12/2010
25. When Albani Sang 4/12/2010
26. The Red Canoe 4/12/2010
27. Bateese The Lucky Man 4/12/2010
28. Spring Bereaved 3 1/4/2003
29. The Canadian Country Doctor 4/12/2010
30. Johnnie's First Moose 4/12/2010
31. Donal Campbell 4/12/2010
32. De Camp On De 4/12/2010
33. The Windigo 4/12/2010
34. Dreams 4/12/2010
35. Leetle Lac Grenier 4/12/2010
36. Spring Bereaved 1 1/4/2003
37. Ole Tam On Bord-A-Plouffe 4/12/2010
38. De Bell Of St. Michel 4/12/2010
39. Madrigal 1/4/2003
40. Child Thoughts 4/12/2010
Best Poem of William Henry Drummond

Little Bateese

1 You bad leetle boy, not moche you care
2 How busy you 're kipin' your poor gran'pere
3 Tryin' to stop you ev'ry day
4 Chasin' de hen aroun' de hay--
5 W'y don't you geev' dem a chance to lay?
6 Leetle Bateese!

7 Off on de fiel' you foller de plough
8 Den w'en you 're tire you scare the cow
9 Sickin' de dog till dey jomp the wall
10 So de milk ain't good for not'ing at all--
11 An' you 're only five an' a half dis fall,
12 Leetle Bateese!

13 Too sleepy for sayin' de prayer to-night?
14 Never min'...

Read the full of Little Bateese

Saint John Baptist

THE last and greatest Herald of Heaven's King,
Girt with rough skins, hies to the deserts wild,
Among that savage brood the woods forth bring,
Which he than man more harmless found and mild.
His food was locusts, and what young doth spring
With honey that from virgin hives distill'd;
Parch'd body, hollow eyes, some uncouth thing
Made him appear, long since from earth exiled.
There burst he forth: 'All ye, whose hopes rely

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