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The Oxford Book of Canadian Verse

The Wreck of the ‘Julie Plante’

William Henry Drummond (1854–1907)

(A Legend of Lac St. Pierre)

ON wan dark night on Lac St. Pierre,

De win’ she blow, blow, blow,

An’ de crew of de wood-scow Julie Plante

Got scar’t an’ run below—

For de win’ she blow lik’ hurricane,

Bimeby she blow some more,

An’ de scow bus’ up on Lac St. Pierre

Wan arpent from de shore.

De captinne walk on de front deck,

An’ walk de hin’ deck too—

He call de crew from up de hole,

He call de cook also.

De cook she’s name was Rosie,

She come from Montreal,

Was chambermaid on lumber-barge

On de Grande Lachine Canal.

De win’ she blow from nor’-eas’-wes’,

De sout’ win’ she blow too,

W’en Rosie cry, ‘Mon cher captinne,

Mon cher, w’at I shall do?’

De captinne t’row de beeg ankerre,

But still de scow she dreef:

De crew he can’t pass on de shore

Becos’ he los’ hees skeef.

De night was dark lak’ wan black cat,

De wave run high an’ fas’,

W’en de captinne tak’ de Rosie girl

An’ tie her to de mas’.

Den he also tak’ de life-preserve,

An’ jomp off on de lak’,

An’ say, ‘Good-bye, my Rosie dear,

I go drown for your sak’!’

Nex’ mornin’ very early

’Bout ha’f pas’ two—t’ree—four—

De captinne—scow—an’ de poor Rosie

Was corpses on de shore.

For de win’ she blow lak’ hurricane,

Bimeby she blow some more,

An’ de scow bus’ up on Lac St. Pierre

Wan arpent from de shore.

Moral
Now all good wood-scow sailor-man,

Tak’ warning by dat storm,

An’ go an’ marry some nice French girl

An’ leev on wan beeg farm.

De win’ can blow lak’ hurricane,

An’ s’pose she blow some more,

You can’t get drown’ on Lac St. Pierre

So long you stay on shore.