,.- *o accomplished. A. O. P. Xkw Glasocw, N. S., Dkc 15th, 1877. INTRODUCTION. Lake Averil lies eniboHoined in the forest upon the Itoundary Line that separates Canada from Vermont alH.ut twelve miles from Coarecook, P. Q. It is a beau- t Hill sheet of clear water and abounds with trout. It's l'"Huty is chiefly enhanced by the deep silence and H..htude of its scenery. To see it to advantage it should i»'' visited in the fall of the year, when the surrounding lorests are clothed in all their autumnal vestments. To the lover of nature and solitude, to those who find •f.Ieasure in the pathless woods and raplure on the l'»nely shore" faraway from the busy haunts of man, uad the noise and bustle of every day life, toithe sports- nutn and the artist it offers every attraction. i-ieth Stone referred to in the following poem, spent a 1,'roat part of his time at this lake and its environs, shoot- ing and fishing. He was a pleasant companion' in the woods, and his jokes and anecdotes, interspersed witli genuine humor, his frequent sallies of wit, and his terse rnpartee were the soul of our camp life. His untimely oud was a matter of deep regyet to all who knew him. i 'oatecook according to local traditions was formerly the site of an Indian Village, but the dramatis personce or the Legend are purely tictitious. * The Rev, THE LEGEND OF LAKE AVERIL. In his tHrthoMt wanderings still he hqhh it. Hears the talking flame, the answering night w'm>\n As he heard them When he sat with those who were, hut are not. — LotUffeHotr. I u the deep bosom of the forest wild I .ies Averil's lone water, ever mild ; Pi'imeval solitude, it's shores pervades. And Peace sits brooding in its margent shades. 'I'he storm that on the hill the pine tree bends, \\\xt seldom to the quiet scene descends, Tho' zephyrs in the beams of summer trace Tlie laughing dimples o'er its azure face. The loon with crazy voice awakes the glen, < >f this lone lake a common denizen, Here may the timid deer at night be found, Kmerging from the forest borders round, I'o quench its thirst beneath the silent star With watchful ear and eye, lest foe should ma)- Its pleasures in the crystal draught, and then With sudden bound to seek the woods again. Kere doth the speckled trout in shoals abound, No hostile species here molest their round, Here might that queer, eccentric old Divine, * Walton the prince of anglers drop a line, And find another subject for his pen. Indite more homilies on fishing, when He should like Paul be fishing for the souls of men. * I'hf Rev. Isaac Walton well known as an Author to the iSporting Wor)on thy silent wings. But spare the luillowed memory of things. S|)are the remembrance of the spirits gone, The images of those we doted on. The sweet refiection of affections ties, Spare me the sliadow though the substance flies ; — Back to my breast life's fiowers thou wil't not give. But let their fragrance in my fancy live. Sweet Averil ! how oft .ny gaze I cast, 4(h)wn the silent vista of the i)aEt, And midst the checkered seen that meet mine eyes. Thy peaceful glades on memory arise, All palpable, as from a magic wand, And busy fancy hovers round thy strand. Thou art so with my memory entwined, So clear upon the tablet of the min«.^., 'T would seem as tho' my ^;)irit still doth stray Amidst the kindred haunts of bygone day. Since last I trod thy sands the waves of life. Have rolled around me with n. bitter strife. And adverse winds have borne my fragile banpn-. Tl. omul belli IK I. ine los ; — line eves. THE LEGEND OF LAKE AVERIL. 9 •<(Ut A weary imnd o'er seas where all was dark, No dreams of halcyon days now rise to cheer The fading landscaj)e once so bright and clear. Time too has left his impress on my brow, And lengthened shadows flit before me now. The hearts wliose love I deemed wonld never fade. Or absence alter, or oblivion shade, Hrnt they a caution ! hand me here the jug ! Here ! cried Piscator take this flask and drink, Martell's best brandy that will make thee blink, Seth seized the proflfered flask and took a drain, Then lit his mellow clay and smoked away amain. Ye youths who plod, no matter in what grade, Minion of lucre, slavish child of trade, Whose minds are in the narrow compass bound, Of some small trading hole, nor look around. Or lift your thoughts perhaps beyond the pale Of some barnyard where all your wits grow stale, " Home-keeping youths," come hither ! view this scene, Mark well tho tableau, and this spot serene, The merry sunburnt faces, hear the tale, The song that echoes over hill and dale, That laugh, that mocks at care and says begone, The " starry canopy " to ponder on, See the bright blaze from birchen log« that flings, A ruddy charm o'er all surounding things, And taste the pleasures from* the fount that flows. THE LEGEND OF LAKE AVERIL. 11 1, in. i fraught, es, rs I bug, nk, jlink, :'ain, amain. ide, und, I, lie stale, :liis scene, foue, flings, flows. Where Nature sits enthroned beneath the forest boutrli.*-: Oome Seth 1 Piscator cried the night is long, Tell me a tale, or else do sing a song ? Well, if I must said Seth, I'l tell a tale, What happened long ago in this lone vale. 'Twas told to me by an old trapper Joe, When I was young, that's many years ago. Twas long before my time and youern too ; No Boundary Line then ran this country through. A chain of forests clothed the land from here, To Lake Champlain or some where very near. Coaticook, that little town you know. Was not then thought of, where now stands « row Of cottages, some Indian wigwams lay 'Midst wilds interminable every way. 'Twas swampy ground, with bullrushes around, Where wolves and other varmint did abound. ' The Indian folks who made that place their home Were clever people, not much used to roam. Were clever folks, so did the trapper say, Perhaps ahead of some that's there to-day. They had no " gospel mills" and no hotel ; No lawyers and the like, which was as well ; No brimstone Bethels, where the sinner's soul Takes the higliway to glory without toll. Where the itinerant Lord's anointed stands And deals out free salvation to all hands. *No scapegrace progeny of mongrel blood, .,^"'^n,'~'^^-^*'Ju" ".^f"?" ^^^^ referred tc are to be found in the town^ :tnd villages m the vicinity of the Boundary Line on the Canada sd" rhey areunworthy the name of citizens, and poison the social atmos^ phere that surrounds them. They have imported all the vices of o,i. neighbors without their virtues, "in politics they are invarSv An nexatiomsts; m reality men who would run agafnst rood iovernmtnt m any state. During the American war they found a fiem for f?.*! r evil propensities in "running substitutes" from Canada for the UniS States army. They may well be designated unireu „ - . " Lepers in politics and public good." No reference is here made to the respectable citizens from the Uuitwi .Stftt.ns vohci harm arx**f^,A «« /^.,«„J_ _i ^ .i ^ »'"■;• mc Ulllieu and politically cannot be impeached. ^ eot-ianj w 12 THE LE(}END OF LAKE AVERIL. f.o[)er.s in politics and j)ublic good ; Tliose fungi tijat tlie border liamlets cram Yclii)t skedadlers from Uncle Sam ; Pills that the old man's stomach could not hold ; Black sheep that he's excluded fiom his fohl. r like the Yankee when he's gennwine, But darn these critters on the boundary line. These cast off scions of the Yankee school Might think the Indian Ohieftian was a fool, But they might draw a lesson from the book < )f natures scion, Chief Coaticook. He was a gentleman all ready-made, N'ot like the city swell that's learned the trade, But it was there ; no artificial chain, ( )f book-learned wisdom crami)ed his soul's domain His manly Ijearing, brow with furrows wrought, Bespoke the man of firmness and deep thought, And what he did'nt know, well then you bet Was not worth knowing, " Say Bill pass the wet " t Well Bill he had a daughter, handsome, fine ; N"© palefacod l)astardy had marred the line, She was the counterpart of her old man. And all his genius in her currant ran ; His only ofi'sj^ring in whose face he saw, The sweet retiection of his long lost squaw. She was to him a star of brightest ray That lit the evening twiligliL of his day, A glow ui)on the yellow leaf of fall, A synosure, his thoughts absorbing all. I^^or her went up the never ceasing prjiyer, Jn cam}), on prairie, forest, everywhere, And when he prayed, he prayed with heart and will. The silent vistas of the forest Bill With lofty pines for columns and a shrine (;)f granite boulders, over which would twine. The trailing mass, the dewberry and flower, Formed his sublime cathedral, our Modern mode of worship can't compare, T THE LEGEND OF LAKE AVERIL, 13 liold ; 1(1. lie. Dl, )k 'iide, domain )Ugl)t, lorht, le wet " i 16 ; and will, le. With his'n, we can't hold a candle there. And as for choristers, he had the songs, < )f every bird that to the wood belongs ; The silver symjjhony of falling rill, Horeau gales and ze|)hers whisper still ; And the great Father's voice in thunders roll, Music that awes and vspeaks right to the soul. He did not kneel as folks do now'a days. In pews on velvet hassocks or on baize ; •< )r like our pious Elder with lank face, With eyes upturned, and belly full of grace, Thank God for special favors and again Thank God that he was not as other men. No, he saw good in all and raised his soul, Up to the great Invisible who made the whole. Well Bill, 'twas when the cruel war was waged, 'Twixt France and Britain, Indians w^ere engaged, By each antagonist to ply their trade, (rlory or fame cannot expunge that shade From history. The knife was red with gore, And Murder stalked with gory tresses o'er This northern forest land. The wolf would then Fatten on carcasses of butchered men. The settlers' children, to the babe just born, From helpless arms all ruthlessly were torn, And brained before the supplicating eye, Did this look like a christian policy ! A military station where now stands Sherbrook, was occupied by British hands. Upon the hill be-girt with maple trees, 8t. George's banner fluttered in the breeze. It floats there still, and distant be the hour, Wlien felon hands that good old rag shall lower, May his poor heart of mine be cold and still, — No politics allowed here ! muttered Bill, Well Bill that's so said Seth I'm ofl" the trail. And kind of losing sight of my long tale, nti |:lir 14 THi: LE(;i:xD of lake averil. Now (Jf'herHl someboily sent down a bmce, ( )f officpis in tsearlet trinniied with lace, To treat with old Cojiticook and try The tenor of the chieftain's jiolicy. • Suttiee it that the rednian did declare His tribe as neutral, neither hei-e or there. He treated well his guests ; his frugal store < )f venison was laid upon the floor, His daughter with a woman's wontee told. Old Johnny Bull stuck out of him quite plain : A child could swear he'd come across the main. The other Major Wilkins I will pass ; He was of small account, had lots of brass ; His record may be fair or may be foul, A cham])anzee, or may be a blled owl Knowed more than that apology for man, And so I'll dro}> the critter, that's my j»lan. Well Bill these soger cliai)S they staid ten days With old Coaticook, in many ways They passed in pleasuring tlieir time around. In hunting deer and fishing I'll be bound In this here lake : and *Bena she was there. For hunting was her forte and she could beai- Toil and ])rivations none but Indians know. But one thing showed which way the wind did Mow, No matter what the sport was of tlie day. No matter how their paths diverged away, Bena and Wells W(mld meet as if by chance, We can see what was up Bill at a glance. The gal was kind of spoony on him sir, •The chief's daughter, Bena is a pheasant in Iroquois. THK LE(JE\1) OF LAKE AVKRIL. 15 re, en V , (1 did Mow, Tlie cliM). had kind of hankerini? arter her. These thinjrs were not unnoticed by the chief, ]5ut then his daugliter in his firm belief, ^V^.i» wide awake, and would not bring herself to gritf. Great men have their weak points in common things. -blinds that will soar upon immortal wings, Above the common level of their kind, In some small social matters seem purblind, And so 'twas with Coaticook, but we -Men of small calibre the thing would see At once; true Wells and Bena could define Then- thoughts alone by gestures or by sign : Knglish or French she never learned ; he knew No more of Irocpiois than I or you. But there are ways of telling vvhat we mean, And eyes are fraught with eloquence I ween. 'J'here is .1 power in silence, when the eye Dwells on the much h)ved object, and a' sigh Heaved from the dee[) recesses of tlie heart, 3)iscloses more than words can ere impart, Devotion, passion, love or what you will IJetrays itself in many aspects Bill. The transient rost^ that blooms upon the face. The shades of thought that deep emotions trace, The sudden cloud that lowers on the brow, A moment shaded, changed to radience now. The tell-tale mirror of the heart, the eye Disclosing all loves hidden mystery ; The tender pressure of the fingei^ fraught With meaning; an instinctive meaning taught. By mother Nature to her daughter Eve ; A legacy bequeathed us I believe, If these things do not speak in language cleai-, My views are all anomolous I fear. But to my tale, these sogers had to dou Their uniforms again and leave u})on The seven A. M. train. Not much, you know u THE LEGEND OF LAKE AVEKIL. N^o iron horse came tearing screaming through The forests then. They had to pack their duds. Shoulder their turkies and plod thro' the woods. There is a well known boulder by this i)on«l, A log camp stood not many rods beyond. There as the sun it's parting glory shed, And sable shadows o'er the grand woods isped, There the Lieutenant and the maiden sat; 'Twas an all-tire romantic eve was that : The *" lightning bugs " danced thro' the dreamy air. And showed their fairy lanterns everywhere. No ripple trembled on the silent lake, Save when the loon or plunging muskrat break The calm with eddies. Then the silver moon Stole from a sea ot forests and full soon, With pensive grandeur shed a glamour o'er All nature, and enhanced her charms the more. 'twas a fair subject for the artist that, The civilized and savage, critters that Were the extremes in character and blood One from the city, t'other from the wood. Her raven locks in wild luxuriance hung. Over her shoulders and her dark eyes shone In the pale moonlight, while his arm was cast Around her waist and thus the moments passed. One touch of nature makes the world akin. This proverb may to some folks seem too thin, But love, romantic love is often found To step from higher spheres to lower ground And youth has no discretion, that's so Bill ! And risks a sire's curse and a shilling in his will. They parted with a fond embrace, so far Wells was a white man, he did naught to mar The girls felicity. He'd come to claim Bena for squaw, he said, she thought the same. All this was told in gestures and their plan Was unbeknown except above to the "Old Man."t * Fireflies. tGod in border phraseology. h rough eir dudK, B woods. [)on«l, 8 sped, It; dreamy iiir, here. t break moon o'er Q more. od 1. y ?' lone IS cast 9 passed, :in, '<> thin, ound lill! his will. mar ' same, Ian Jld Man."t THE LEGEND OF LAKE AVEHIL. 17 Time rolled along the days, the months, the years. Two long, long years of anxious'hopes and fears, Of weary irksome days and sleepless nights When lo the scarlet coat appears in sight. Then Bena wild and losing all restraint, (She did not hollow or pretend to faint,) But from the wigwam like a panther broke, If hell had intervened with fire and smoke, ril bet my life she would have waded thro'; When women loves what wont the critter do, Bounds thro' the brushwood like a thing of thought And in the silent avenue she sought. The young Lieutenant ; then into his arms She fondly threw herself, all glowing with loves charms. The soger came for game ; this was his plea ; And he was game, no chicken sir was she. For many days they were a gunning round. The Matrawippe Lake, (lame did abound, In those days all the plains and forests thro' No lack was there of moose and cariboo. But like their forest lords the Indian race, They vanish from the earth ; they fade apace Before the legions of their paleface foe Like leaves before the autumn winds they go. Another generation by the by Will know them only in zoology. Most of the hunters after many suns, Made foi- their wigwams. So the story runs, But Wells and Bena they returned no more, And spent their honeymoon upon this very shore. 'Tvvas in the early fall that pleasant time. When all the groves are decked with hues sublime. That glorious season when the Summer's grace In coruscations smiles on Autumn's ftice, And. where doth nature ere her charms enshrine w 18 THE LEOKND OF LAKE AVEKIL. In tints inor<^ gorgt'ous, or so varied shine As hy tiiy vvutfjrs Avtiril. Thy sky Was almost ck)iulless. All was fair, but why Has Bena decked her hair with leaves so lav'i«hl> ' She stood with Wells within a sylvan bower. Formed by some cedar trees and mantled o\»'r With the wild vine, and in that silent shade Their simple matrimonial vows they ma«le. This might not suit the fashionable' fry, (Conventionality would call out fie ! 'twould wake the censure of the stoic crew. Religious bigots would denounce it too. But spite the strictures of this mincing age, I)esi)ite the rigid Moralist and Sage, 'twas solemn wedlock in my reason's eye, And registered in God's own scroll on high. No priest was there with solemn form to bind. No groom or bridesmaid stood the pair behind. No happy faces on their lot to smile, No music i»eeled ♦* adown the long drawn aish^" He pointed to the sky, she to the sun, Showed both their palms, and this roi'nantic i)air xsnr one. f The day flew by upon love's glowing wings 'Till sable night with mantle clothed all thino-s Around them. J oy ineffable was theirs, Their nuptial hours were all devoid of cares. Love flings a halo round its fleeting joys, A.nd veils the dark to-morrow that destroys. The soft dry moss with autumn leaves o'erspread By Nature's hand, served for their marriage bed A deerskin robe about'their limbs they drew ; And this was all the trapper said he knew About connubial matters. Hymen flings A veil in modesty o'er all such things. The mystery of marriage beds deny, The prying scrutiny of vulgar eye. wliy lavisli I.v I wcr, oVr ad** «'. V, ?f'. THE LE(JE\I) OF LAKE AVKRIL. ( )li Stay romiintic youtliful vision, stay ! ( )h bloom uwliile ye Howors that strew the wa\' Dark clouds why on life's rosy morning fall, And unsophisticated love why pall ? Like summer clouds the ^dlded mouKuits pass N<'ver to come a^'ain. and then alas Came stern r«;ality. The CHiief began To doubt the honor of the paleface man. What (h;tained J^ena in the woods so long ? Dark thoughts about his mental vision thnmg. Has his loved daughter's chastitv been seared i Ifas she, the flower of his life that cheered • His path through age by alien hands been reft, And he h(;r sire to mourn her weakness left. He called his savans versed in Indian lore, Who in a circle sat upon the floor. Age took tlie preceflence, each gave his views fn speech laconic ; no redundant use Of language for rhetori(;al eflect, Vet shrewd and eloquent without defect. Now Bill the Indians moral code you know Should not be guaged by ours ; that is so. With him revenge is virtue, not a crime. 'I'he scalp of foe to him's a thing sublime. All the traditions of the race are reared Upon this principle, and I'm afeai-ed If any foe should ask for quarter there He'd find but little virtue in his prayer. Thus spoke Coaticook and raised his head, His calumet he laid aside then said : Children the paleface to my wigwam came I knew him not by person'or by fame. His purpose I believed was honest, fair, I gave him fish and venison, a share Of all my humble wigwam was possessed, Am. ..se recti mat whereon to take liis rest. My tribe has always given food to all 19 20 THE LE(JEND OF LAKE AVERIL. Ami slieltor, when tliey at our dwellings call, And the (hvnt Spirit Hinil(%s on ledman where He feeds the stranger with his Iminhle fare. 1 showed the paleface ganif? ; uiy Bena too Was with our l>arty hunting forests thro' For many suns, and I was mad or blind To dream that she was better than her kind And trust \i^n' all alone with that paleface, The deadly enemy of all my race. These failing eyes will gaze upon her form As something blasted by the thuiidor storm ; A loathsome thing of modesty bereft ; Would that the thunderbolt this head had cleft Before this dire calamity transpired # Then with a sudden savage impulse fired He bid his warriors for their task prepare, To scour the j)lains and forests, everywhere, And ere the morrow's sun has run his race Bring me he said the whiteman's scalp to grace My wampum ; and my Bena bring to me,'' The whiteman's scalp is all I ask of ye. He ended, and there rose a war-whoop shrill That woke the solitude of dale and hill : Then painted men in single tile marched by With all the })ride of Indian pageantry. And like a thing by dreaming fancy reared Faded within the tall pine shades and disai)peared. Night stole on Averil Wth heavy wings, And clouds poro-i\+u,H, fi-owneu upon all things. The very owl was awed to silence then ; The duck lay motionless within the fen ; The nighthawk cleaved no more the drowsy air ; Nor prowled along the beach the hungry bear ; ' Or howled the wolf pack over yonder hill ; And mutely sat the nightly whippoorwill. ' No breezes redolent of balmy flowers Kissed the dark foliage of trees or bowers ; THK LKiJENI) OF LAKE AVERII.. n gs call, fare. too ro' d kind Pace, 3rm torni ; had cleft id are, here, race to grace ne, slirill ired lisai)i)earpd. 11 things. )wsy air ; y bear ; ill; II. jrs ; Uut silence all pervailirig hrooth'd o'er The woods and waters. There's a calm hefinv A storm, th<^ spirit sleeps witliin the breast And all the billows of the soul take rest When some calamity is near at hand. .Sle])t the young soldier in the magic band Of liena's arms, entranced with visions bland. Twas as the calm before the simoom's breath lifiaves in its arid sweep the trail of death ; 'Hie peace of that eternal vale of snow Kre breaks the avelanclie o'er all below ; 'I'he deathlike silence that o'er nature reigns Kre the tornado dwastates the jdains ; That morbid stillness that the earth enthral.s Kre the fair city by the earthquake falls. Jjut slumbers not the everwatchful squaw, Home strange presentiments her bosom awe. Suspicion lurks, and yet she can't tell why ; [nstinct, not reason shows there's danger nigh. She wildly peers into the gloom of night. Thro' the faint medium of the camp fire's light. She listens witli her ear upon the gi-ound, Ah there's a noise, a stealthy human .sound. With hurried motion she arouses Wells, With hurried gestures she the danger tells. Snatches her musket, bounds like any roe Followed by Wells the woody vistas thro'. Their bark canoe was moored ui>on the shore. A Stygian gloom pervades the waters o'er. In silence wrapped they steal along the lake, So soft thou couldst not hear the ripples break : The paddles noisless dip well timed doth show The practised master hand that wields it now. A flash, a sharp report, a whizzing ball, And then a yell, thou wouldst have thought that all Hell had broken do^vn the everlasting door And all its legions o'er the threshold pour. Smooth as the swallow skims along the deep, 22 THE LEGEND OF LAKE AVERIL. m Swift as the eagle in its dizzy sweep Thro' the wild azure, flew the bark c , - — canoe Away, awiiy towards the inlet flew. 'Tis life to gain that spot, 'tis death to fail. Away the warrior scouts are on the trail. No interchange of looks, no respite now, With long quick strokes, the light bark onwaul flew •And glides at la^t into a little bay, Where startled V/ildfowl flew in flocks away. Thro' the long bulrushes they quietly drew Their lif,tle bark, and hid it safe from view ; Then thro' a cedar labyrinth they hied. So intricate their task that it defied The native instinct even of the squaw, M iich less the paleface at the business mw. • Now Bill, some bookmaker, a city blood Has said * there's pleasure in the pathless wood. If that romantic gentleman would stray With me into the wild-woods some fine day The error of his sentiments he'd see, Within a cedar swamp, an hour with me, Would sow the critter up. I'll bet you when His sentimental lyre he tuned again. He'd try another theme ; he'd kind a hat« On '' pathless woods" and solitude to prate. But to my tale, within the dismal glade, Thro' swamp and quagmire difficult to wade, Thro' scrubby underbrush, o'er fallen trees. With stiff" set limbs, thro' clouds of flies that teaze, Thro' darkness such as Dante's muse might suit, ( )r Stygian gloom for Milton's master lute. Not e'en the f little fly's phospheric spark, (Jheered the lone fugitives, all, all was dark. At length the night began to wane, the sky Paled into morn, an opening they descry. Both faint and weary, hands and faces torn. Sank on the mossy ground, two things forlorn. * There is a pleasure in the pathless wood— Byron. t The Firefly. IL. THE LEGEND OP LAKE AVERIL. 23- e iiJ onwaril flew WAy. ew 3w : w. s wood. ay vhen i;e. tie, liat teaze, it suit. •k. lOrn. The Soger was played out Bill, not the squaw, She with the fondness of a woman saw His feeble state, his fevered bloodshot eye ; She would not leave him, she would rather die, I'lie scouts might soon discern their wayward trail, ( )ne further effort and. if that should fail. The torture or the stake, the scalping knife. These she would risk for him lier joy, her life. She brought him water and she bathed his brow. Not many paces hence there lay below, B^our of the warriors of Coaticook, Who drew a bead on Wells the volley woke, The echoes of the valleys, hill and glen. Then dropped the poor v/orn soldier, and oh then ; As from the jungle bounds the tiger, wild, So Bena sprang, I tell you she was riled, Rushed franticly unarmed upon her foes, With superhuman strength one man she throws Upon the sod, and ere the rescue came, Wrenches his tomahawk, and sc ds che same, Into his skull. No amazon of ola Fought v.dth more desperate courage, madly bold, She fell by him she loved, yet in death's throes She boldly bid defiance to her savage foes. Thus passed from life the flower of the line Of Old Coaticook, in youth's fair prime. Innate nobility of mind was hers. Her features spoke the chara,cter that stirs Our admiration, and her master parts Amidst the (5hivalrous might move the hearts Of nations. In another social sphere Some daring Joan of Arc she might apj)ear, Simirimis, or Albion's Boadicea. Love was to her a thing entirely new, It was not transitory, for she threw Her soul into the object of her love ; Something perennial that will bloom above \n some far off and blessed Elvsian Isles, 24 THE LEGEND OF LAKE AVERIL. Some *Egapemone wJiere summer ever smiles. 'riiiis fell the Chieftian's daughter and poor Wells. He left the happy haunts my story tells ()f urban life, his home, his friends, his race, For Bena's love, the forest and the chase, And in the end was chased him.self and shot. flis honeymoon was short Bill, was it not 1 But he was stalwart, faithful, honest, true, And loved his swai-thy bride with fervor too • And if there is a happy peaceful shore According to the creeds and sages lore. Where all the storms of human passions cease, Where virtue rests upon the breast of peace, Where love, self-sacrificing, noble, rare, like his, shall conquer time, then he's with Bena the I'he scouts performed their task, tlie scalp they brought To old Coaticook, but mentioned nought Of Bena's death ; they told a garbled tale Of how she fled, and how they lost her trail. And Autumn's yellow leaf bestrewed the plain, I'hen Winter's snows, and yet no Bena came. The stern old Chieftian's anguish could be seen In all his actions, in his altered mien ; Yet there was grandeur in his swift decay That marks the great when hope has passed away. No murmur passed his lips, not e'en a sigh T'old of the sorrow gnawing inwardly. The Winter passed and joyous gladsome Spring Came round again reviving everythinof, But came not Bena. Then as falls tlie pine, tSome patriarch, last of a forest line, That stood with all majestic grandeur, lone, When all its mates before the axe had gone ; Ko passed Coaticook, the chief renowned Into the spirit realms, his glorious hunting groumi. * Egapemone, or the abode of love. r<: IIL. r smiles. THE LEGEND OF LAKE AVERIL. 25 poor WeJls. Is IS race, ise, i shot, not? rue, or too ; ns cease, peace. nth Bena tlieiv • 1 Jalp ther It 1 The bark of the State glided gallantly on, Till feuds were engendered, all fouiided upc^n The Niggers equality, darn everyone Tliat troubled the peace of Columbia. Then waved the palmetto flag high in the air ; The tiercie Southern tiger sprang forth from his lair. And war, ))loody war, left its curse and its scar On the l)osom of weeping Columbia. The North witii one voice the rebellion decried ; The partizan spirit was merged in the pride Our countrymen felt when they fought side by side For the honor and fame of Columbia. And when o'er tlie laiul a deep shadow there paKse»l, When all thought the Union gone up at last, Hut for DemocrjitK swords the Confeaorates grasp ■^ /-J /^ >» . » ♦ . Had settled the hash of Columbia. THK JM)Lrn(;AL TorillSTS. 31 id. ers \V(»li ; y OIK', uiitbia. an wars, WW ; lbji> ibia. r; his lair, scar 'ied ; by side ib'ia. e }>jiKso»l, graHf> I. \\ lu'n llu' (bin cloiul of war rolled away from our sky. And I'tMtcc luT white baiiiu'r unfurled ii|)on hij^h, 'I lieu fell on our ears the ]i(q)ubliean ery For radieal ruk^ in ('(duuibia. rriiey trampled on precedent, order, and lavs ; Tfie country imp.overished worse than the wars; The jj:overnuieut funds fell a prey to their paws, And they broke the back bone of C'oluml)ia, M'Jie subsidy business they sorely misused ; 'Vi> men of capacity honor refused ; Sent crafty diploMiatists out who abused Their trust, and dishonored Columbia. *lMien let us liold fast to conservative riglit, Arul like our brave ancestors nerve for the hslit, I'o crush the political vampires out quite. Who drain the life blood of Columbia. A^ain let our eagle ascend to the sky, For dark clouds are lowering, and troubJe is nigh, lict Tilden for President be the w'ar cry. And Reform for our country Columbia. As Nevena ceased, the I'oet followed suit, With patriotic strains he woke his lute. Poet was loyal to the liritish Crown, Proud of his country and its old renown, Jlis feelings knew no change, his heart was there ; miiH native land was all his hope, his care. Twenty years penance at Columbia's shrine Proved the Republic was not all Divine, uick to resent a slur on Albion's name, cornful when from her enemy it came, ut when a stranger's tongue proclaimed her praise lis heart would throb responsive to each phrase, ith staff" and scallop shell, and sandal shoon le trod the weSry waste of life alone, iiack through the vista of the silent past n sunny days his thoughts were ever cast Ho Hung his w^ayward strains and uncouth lays ft to the winds, he sought no meed of praise. H some lone pilgrim of the desert plain, 'aint, parched, w ith weary foot and aching brain 32 THE POMTKJAL TOUKISTS. A rotrospectivo glance and longing smile TiunH to the palm trees of 8omo desert isle, That in relief on the horizon show Wherf) (u-ystal streams thi-ough verdant pastures flow, So turned this pilgrim to his native isle, To lumie, where all its fond endearments smile, The only Anglo-saxon in the throng This was the idle Vjurden of his song. THE POET'S SONG. ii; When discord and anarchy ride on the gale, And raving fanatics o'er order prevail, Distracjted I turn to my own native isle, Where calm social pleasures the hours beguile And tears will arise ' To my weary eyes, When I dream of home and its thousand ties. Albion my country I yearn for thee still, I wander in slumber o'er meadow and hill. Where soft dreamy landscapes in retrospect rise. And long buried memories gladden mine eyes ;' While up in the sky The lark carols higli ♦ And melody wakens of days gone by. I prize the warm hearts of Columbia's sons. The same ruddy stream in our kindred veins runs- Hut Albion my warmest atfections are thine, ' By absence unaltered, matured by time, Oh cold, cold will be This heart when from me oblivion shall bear my remembrance of thee. Pollute not the tongue with the envious phrase, Hut yield her the frank honest tribute of praise'- Though Freedom thy land with her choicest gifts soa\ s They are but the fruits from the old Saxon boughs • ' Then sing oJ her fame. Her glory proclaim, • And give to the mother-land honor, not shame. Xo rude revolution of elements jar Her firm social fabric, in peace or in war, The calm sober spirit of Judgment presi(tes In the soul of Briton whatever betides But wake not, his ire s. THE POLITICAL TOURISTS. 33 3 lie, vvstiiros (low, * smile, ile, guile, ties. >et rise, eves : » 7 IS, y;;ili to fnid IlilMScIf ill towii. Tlic spi'c^clicM of the day wore tlicii n»h(!iiis<' Tin: POLITHAL TorUlsTS. Yon n«'i'(l not fare a straw about llio nion. rims with a ^ra^•f!l'ul t'aso and mellow tono II.. rharmi'<| tlu' thronK with d.xiiu'nro his own. Lower the fla«! the fatal .|i<' is cast. Lower the MaR ! that for tlu' .•(sntury |) ist lias wav('