““And ever and anon they sung,
        Yo, heave ho!
And loud and long the echo rung,
        Yo, heave ho!”

Have you, my friend, ever been on one of our Canadian steamers, on the St. Lawrence or Ottawa, and met with a raft, or perhaps a dozen of them, on their passage down to Montreal or Quebec? And if And if you have, you have seen the Voyageurs at work at their big paddles, like a family of Hercules'; and perhaps you have heard them singing some of their beautifully simple melodies, while they kept time to the dipping of their oars. You may have seen them on their great rafts of lumber, with arms bare to the shoulder, and their long black hair waving in the wind, while they step backwards and forwards as the long stroke of their oars necessitates; you may have seen them straining every muscle as they pass you in such graceful attitudes, their rich swelling voices keeping time to the simple

        “En roulant ma boule roulant,”
or,
        “Trois Canards s'en vont baignant,”
or,
        “Si mon mone voulait danser
        En beau cheval lui donnerar?”

all of which are great favorites of the Voyageurs. But rafts in a current and steamers in a hurry wait for no man; and soon the fine fellows. on their lumber home float out of sight–their song dying away in the distance till it sounds like faint echoes on the hills. You have witnessed this picturesque scene, and have thought it very fine and romantic; and you think 'twould need not only the pen of the writer, but the painter's brush, and the art of the musician to express even half of its beauty. Well, so it would. You never heard songs more melodious than the songs these untutored voyageurs sing: neither Mozart nor Handel could compose songs so peculiarly adapted to their particular application. The simple fascination and chanson à voyageur of the steersman, if the raft is not over large, and anon the bursting melodious chorus of the entire crew is beautiful. The greatest charm of the voyageurs is their singing. Nothing will arouse them from a lethargy like a song; nothing will keep them in a better humour. They will row from morning to night, singing together some favorite airs, and not appear wearied. That charming melody of

        “Row, brothers, row! the stream runs fast,
        The rapids are near and the daylight's past,”

was heard by Moore when passing a raft of voyageurs who were singing it and I have heard something very like it sung by these men.”
[Beers, The Voyageurs of Canada, The British American Magazine, Vol.1, 1863]