''They say when a boat sails near the shore 

 That the gales begin to rise 



And the wind blows east and the wind blows west, 

 Across the sombre skies." 



He came from the land of the sunny east 

 Where the lily waves in pride, 

 He dared the wilds of the rugged west 

 And the surge of the billowed tide. 



That name La Ver-en-drye known to all 

 Rings out in the misty past, 

 A father breasted our rock-bound coasts 

 A son roved our northland vast. 



He came, that scion of noble race, 

 France's peerless and princely one, 

 He turned his face from the gleaming morn 

 To the land of the setting sun. 



They slew him there on that lonely isle 

 With his kinsmen true and brave, 

 With firm set lips and undimmed eye 

 He sank to his lonely grave. 



But the Indian's song is stilled at eve 

 As he sights that dim blue shore 

 For a shadowy vision ever floats 

 Those fields of destruction o'er. 



Far, far away he guides his boat 



Mid waves of the dimpling blue 



Till the haunted coasts sink 'neath the flood, 



And their heights are lost to view. 



There is an isle in the Lake of the Woods; 

 An isle that is known to fame 

 And those who pass on its waters by 

 Speak softly her dreaded name. 



13 



