William Henry Drummond

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

Two Hundred Years Ago - Poem by William Henry Drummond

Two honder year ago, de worl' is purty slow
Even folk upon dis contree 's not so
Den who is travel roun' an' look out de
pleasan' groun'
For geev' de Yankee peop' a leetle start?
I 'll tole you who dey were! de beeg rough
W'it deir cousin w'at you call coureurs de bois,
Dat 's fightin' all de tam, an' never care a dam,
An' ev'ry wan dem feller he 's come from
He 's comin' all de way from Canadaw.

But He watch dem, le bon Dieu, for He's got
some work to do,
An He won't trus' ev'ry body, no siree!
Only full blood Canadien, lak Marquette an'
An' w'at you t'ink of Louis Verandrye?

On church of Bonsecours! makin' ready for
de tour,
See dem down upon de knee, all prayin' dere-
Wit' de paddle on de han' ev'ry good Canad-
ien man,
An' affer dey be finish, hooraw for anyw'ere
Yass, sir!
Dey 're ready now for goin' anyw'ere.

De nort' win' know dem well, an' de prairie
grass can tell
How offen it is trample by the ole tam botte
An'grey wolf on hees den kip very quiet, w'en
He hear dem boy a' singin' upon de long
An' de night would fin' dem lie wit' deir faces
on de sky,
An' de breeze would come an' w' isper on deir
'Bout de wife an' sweetheart dere on Sorel an'
Trois Rivieres
Dey may never leev' to see anoder year
Dat 's true,
Dey may never leev' to kiss anoder year.

An' you 'll know de place dey go, from de
canyon down below,
Or de mountain wit' hees nose aboeve de cloud,
De lake among de hill, w'ere de grizzly drink
hees fill
Or de rapid on de reever roarin' loud;
Ax de wil' deer if de flash of de ole Tree
Reever sash
He don't see it on de woods of Illinois
An' de musk ox as he go, w'ere de camp fire
melt de snow,
De smell he still remember of tabac Canadien
Ha! Ha!
It 's hard forgettin' smell of tabac Canadien!

So, ma frien' , de Yankee man, he mus' try an'
W'en he holler for dat flag de Star an'
If he 's leetle win' still lef', an' no danger hurt
Den he better geev' anoder cheer, ba cripe!
For de flag of la belle France, dat show de way
From Louisbourg to Florida an' back;
So raise it ev'ryw'ere, lak' de ole tam voy-
W'en you hear of de la Salle an' Cadillac-
For de flag of de la Salle an' Cadillac.

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Poem Submitted: Monday, April 12, 2010

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