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Ontario Readers Third Book, The

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<h2>JACQUES CARTIER</h2> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> In the seaport of St. Malo, 'twas a smiling morn in May, When the Commodore Jacques Cartier to the westward sailed away; In the crowded old Cathedral, all the town were on their knees, For the safe return of kinsmen from the undiscovered seas; And every autumn blast that swept o'er pinnacle and pier, Filled manly hearts with sorrow, and gentle hearts with fear. </div> <div class="stanza"> A year passed o'er St. Malo—again came round the day, When the Commodore Jacques Cartier to the westward sailed away; But no tidings from the absent had come the way they went, And tearful were the vigils that many a maiden spent; And manly hearts were filled with gloom, and gentle hearts with fear, When no tidings came from Cartier at the closing of the year. </div> <div class="stanza"> But the earth is as the Future, it hath its hidden side, And the Captain of St. Malo was rejoicing in his pride; In the forests of the North—while his townsmen mourned his loss— He was rearing on Mount Royal the fleur-de-lis and cross; And when two months were over, and added to the year, St. Malo hailed him home again, cheer answering to cheer. </div> <div class="stanza"> He told them of a region, hard, iron-bound and cold, Nor seas of pearl abounded, nor mines of shining gold; Where the wind from Thule freezes the word upon the lip, And the ice in spring comes sailing athwart the early ship; He told them of the frozen scene, until they thrilled with fear, And piled fresh fuel on the hearth to make them better cheer. </div> <div class="stanza"> But when he changed the strain,—he told how soon is cast In early Spring, the fetters that hold the waters fast; How the Winter causeway, broken, is drifted out to sea, And the rills and rivers sing with pride the anthem of the free; How the magic wand of Summer clad the landscape to his eyes, Like the dry bones of the just when they wake in Paradise. </div> <div class="stanza"> He told them of the Algonquin braves—the hunters of the wild; Of how the Indian mother in the forest rocks her child; Of how, poor souls, they fancy in every living thing A spirit good or evil, that claims their worshipping; Of how they brought their sick and maimed for him to breathe upon; And of the wonders wrought for them, thro' the Gospel of St. John. </div> <div class="stanza"> He told them of the river, whose mighty current gave Its freshness for a hundred leagues to ocean's briny wave; He told them of the glorious scene presented to his sight, What time he reared the cross and crown on Hochelaga's height; And of the fortress cliff, that keeps of Canada the key;— And they welcomed back Jacques Cartier from perils over sea. </div> </div> Thomas D'Arcy M'Gee <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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