336 DR. W. H. DRUMMOND 



His rapturous look as he smiled again 



New strength came back to the wasted limbs 



The roses bloomed in his cheek once more 



And the sound of our glad thanksgiving hymn 



Rang out o'er Weymahegan's shore. 



He prayed us to pardon his misdeeds 



He wept when the legion embraced his neck 



And swore by the sacred Lauren tides 



He'd never more venture below Quebec. 



So gently we bore the repentant chief 



Tenderly placed him that awful day 



On board of the gallant ship " Relief " (1) 



And swiftly to the Westward sailed away. 



The Pilgrim ceased, his mournful task 



Was ended at last and all was well 



Then raised to his lips the magic flask 



And silently bade me a last farewell. 



Joy 1 Joy ! at the Peche let the Caribou dance 

 Let the fatted oxen at once be slain 

 Let the men get full and the bull moose prance 

 For the Commodore has come home again. 



1 A powerful wooden tug formerly owned by Mr. Ross, Quebec. 



