DR. W. H. DRUMMOND 335 



But though his eagle eye was dim 

 Yet gazed he o'er the hills where lay 

 The Laurentides where he had spent 

 So many happy, happy hours 

 Safe from the storms of life, content 

 Amid the PSches' (1) tranquil bowers. 

 'Twas thus he spoke : " O why was 1 

 By youthful traveller's tale beguiled 

 To quit the pleasant P6che and die 

 In this inhospitable wild ? 

 What lured me on to cast aside 

 The simple pleasures of my youth 

 Until I longed for Godbout's tide 

 And cared no more for trout forsooth ! 



rash was I to lend an ear 

 To all those legends of the sea 

 To bring my faithful legion here 

 Does this reward their constancy ? 



1 cannot say, but this I know 

 Should I behold the Peche again 

 Could I but see its waters flow 

 I'd be the humblest of the train 



That worships there no more I'd roam 



In search of other piscine fields 



Contented with my humble home 



With all that old Laurentian yields 



I'd gladly live and cheerful die." 



But here his accents' gan to sink 



We thought his hour had come, till I 



Administered a generous drink. 



The veteran gasped but when the flask 



He saw tho' feeble as a child, 



Bravely essayed the pleasant task 



Of trying to empty it and smiled 



Yes, though he had almost passed away 



In one brief moment from our ken 



Yet wondrous 'twas to see that day 



(1) Lac la Peche, Laurentian Club House 



