THE COUREUR-DE-BOIS.
IN the glimmering light of the Old RégimeA figure appears like the flushing gleamOf sunlight reflected from sparkling stream,Or jewel without a flaw.Flashing and fading but leaving a traceIn story and song of a hardy race,Finely fashioned in form and face—The Old Coureur-de-Bois.No loiterer he 'neath the sheltering wingOf ladies' bowers where gallants sing.Thro' his woodland realm he roved a king!His untamed will his law.From the wily savage he learned his tradeOf hunting and wood-craft; of nothing afraid:Bravely battling, bearing his bladeAs a free Coureur-de Bois.A brush with the foe, a carouse with a friend,Were equally welcome, and made some amendFor the gloom and silence and hardships that tend"To shorten one's life,ma foi!"A wife in the hamlet, another he'd take—Some dusky maid—to his camp by the lake;A rattling, roving, rollicking rakeThis gay Coureur-de-Bois.Then peace to his ashes! He bore his partFor his country's weal with a brave stout heartA child of nature, untutored in art,In his narrow world he sawBut the dawning light of the rising sunO'er an Empire vast his toil had won.For doughty deeds and duty doneSalût!Coureur-de-Bois.
IN the glimmering light of the Old RégimeA figure appears like the flushing gleamOf sunlight reflected from sparkling stream,Or jewel without a flaw.Flashing and fading but leaving a traceIn story and song of a hardy race,Finely fashioned in form and face—The Old Coureur-de-Bois.No loiterer he 'neath the sheltering wingOf ladies' bowers where gallants sing.Thro' his woodland realm he roved a king!His untamed will his law.From the wily savage he learned his tradeOf hunting and wood-craft; of nothing afraid:Bravely battling, bearing his bladeAs a free Coureur-de Bois.A brush with the foe, a carouse with a friend,Were equally welcome, and made some amendFor the gloom and silence and hardships that tend"To shorten one's life,ma foi!"A wife in the hamlet, another he'd take—Some dusky maid—to his camp by the lake;A rattling, roving, rollicking rakeThis gay Coureur-de-Bois.Then peace to his ashes! He bore his partFor his country's weal with a brave stout heartA child of nature, untutored in art,In his narrow world he sawBut the dawning light of the rising sunO'er an Empire vast his toil had won.For doughty deeds and duty doneSalût!Coureur-de-Bois.
IN the glimmering light of the Old RégimeA figure appears like the flushing gleamOf sunlight reflected from sparkling stream,Or jewel without a flaw.Flashing and fading but leaving a traceIn story and song of a hardy race,Finely fashioned in form and face—The Old Coureur-de-Bois.
IN the glimmering light of the Old Régime
A figure appears like the flushing gleam
Of sunlight reflected from sparkling stream,
Or jewel without a flaw.
Flashing and fading but leaving a trace
In story and song of a hardy race,
Finely fashioned in form and face—
The Old Coureur-de-Bois.
No loiterer he 'neath the sheltering wingOf ladies' bowers where gallants sing.Thro' his woodland realm he roved a king!His untamed will his law.From the wily savage he learned his tradeOf hunting and wood-craft; of nothing afraid:Bravely battling, bearing his bladeAs a free Coureur-de Bois.
No loiterer he 'neath the sheltering wing
Of ladies' bowers where gallants sing.
Thro' his woodland realm he roved a king!
His untamed will his law.
From the wily savage he learned his trade
Of hunting and wood-craft; of nothing afraid:
Bravely battling, bearing his blade
As a free Coureur-de Bois.
A brush with the foe, a carouse with a friend,Were equally welcome, and made some amendFor the gloom and silence and hardships that tend"To shorten one's life,ma foi!"A wife in the hamlet, another he'd take—Some dusky maid—to his camp by the lake;A rattling, roving, rollicking rakeThis gay Coureur-de-Bois.
A brush with the foe, a carouse with a friend,
Were equally welcome, and made some amend
For the gloom and silence and hardships that tend
"To shorten one's life,ma foi!"
A wife in the hamlet, another he'd take—
Some dusky maid—to his camp by the lake;
A rattling, roving, rollicking rake
This gay Coureur-de-Bois.
Then peace to his ashes! He bore his partFor his country's weal with a brave stout heartA child of nature, untutored in art,In his narrow world he sawBut the dawning light of the rising sunO'er an Empire vast his toil had won.For doughty deeds and duty doneSalût!Coureur-de-Bois.
Then peace to his ashes! He bore his part
For his country's weal with a brave stout heart
A child of nature, untutored in art,
In his narrow world he saw
But the dawning light of the rising sun
O'er an Empire vast his toil had won.
For doughty deeds and duty done
Salût!Coureur-de-Bois.