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08 Sep 07 - 10:44 PM (#2144354) Subject: Lyr Req: Chaudiere, canoe From: Q (Frank Staplin) Commander Crabbe was seeking the poem or song, a fragment of which appears in the book "Tales of an Empty Cabin," by Grey Owl. Can anyone identify and complete it? And always I hear the sound of men dipping Down to the Chaudiere, their long blades dipping, Catch the long low wraith of a bark canoe And hear the wild sweet chanson of a phantom crew. |
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09 Sep 07 - 12:42 PM (#2144667) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Chaudiere, canoe From: Q (Frank Staplin) refresh |
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09 Sep 07 - 01:27 PM (#2144699) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Chaudiere, canoe From: Bob the Postman Commander Crabbe says he struck out with a brief google, but dogpile led me to lots of info about the probable author of this verse, Lloyd Roberts, the son of nature writer Charles G. D. Roberts, whose stories were a bedtime staple during my boyhood. According to the link, back in 1911 Lloyd Roberts worked for the newspaper in the small B. C. town where I now live. The complete text of his book England Over Seas is available from the Gutenberg Project. If the ghost canoe poem is in that book, I missed it during my quick scan. I'll betcha it's in his book called "Along The Ottawa". The text of the verse as it appears in my copy of Tales Of An Empty Cabin is: And always I hear the stir of men dipping Down to the Chaudiere, their thin blades dripping, Catch the long low wraith of a bark canoe And hear the wild sweet chansons of a phantom crew. |
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09 Sep 07 - 02:22 PM (#2144721) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Chaudiere, canoe From: Q (Frank Staplin) Thanks. Since the subtitle of "Along the Ottawa" is a book of lyrics, that looks like a good bet. C. G. D. Roberts, as well as Ernest Thomson Seton, undoubtedly influenced Grey Owl. |
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10 Sep 07 - 08:28 PM (#2145976) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Chaudiere, canoe From: Jim Dixon Google Book Search finds this poem in 3 anthologies: Our Canadian literature; representative verse, English and French, by Bliss Carman and Lorne Pierce, Toronto, The Ryerson press [1935] New harvesting; contemporary Canadian poetry, 1918-1938, by Ethel Hume Bennett, Toronto: Macmillan, 1938, page 146. Canadian poetry in English, by Bliss Carman, Lorne Pierce, and V B Rhodenizer; Toronto : Ryerson Press, [1954], page 232. These books are available online only in "snippet view," but I was able to piece together several snippets to make the following text. (It seems to have something missing at the beginning.). Sorry, I wasn't able to figure out the title or author: And from the portage trail below Deschênes The pulse of paddles and A la Claire Fontaine. I hear the ghost waves lapping on a million beaches, I hear the ghost laughter of loons down lonely reaches, The sighing of spent winds in the matted spruce And the sudden honk and splash of arrow-stricken goose. And always I hear the stir of men slipping Down the Chaudière, their thin blades dripping, Catch the long low wraith of a bark canoe And the wild sweet chansons of a phantom crew. Strange smells are loosed by the hurrying prows— Wood-smoke, trade rum, dried balsam boughs; Strange smells steeped from the drip of years And dyed with the stuff of dead dreams and tears. Into the wash and waste of thy brave debris Drifting through the dark night toward a dark sea, Into thy silent keeping receive from me The gleam of one more broken dream, O Ottawa! |
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10 Sep 07 - 08:36 PM (#2145980) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Chaudiere, canoe From: Peace Great work, guys. |
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10 Sep 07 - 08:50 PM (#2145983) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Chaudiere, canoe From: Bob the Postman You rock, Jim. |
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18 Sep 07 - 06:03 PM (#2152182) Subject: Lyr Add: DEEP DARK RIVER (Lloyd Roberts) From: Q (Frank Staplin) Lyr. Add: DEEP DARK RIVER Lloyd Roberts Deep dark river drifting through the night, Stabbed with cold stars and the cold moon's light, Quickened with the north wind and the drifting snow, What strange dreams stir in thy turgid flow! I can see the black slit of far-drowned places, And the white froth of rapids like drowned faces, And the red and purple stains of sunsets burning, And the endless grey rains of winter's turning. I can hear the bobcat scream, the cow moose calling, The dull reverberant crash of rampike falling, And from the portage trail below Deschênes The pulse of paddles and A la Claire Fontaine. I hear the ghost waves lapping on a million beaches, I hear the ghost laughter of loons down lonely reaches, The sighing of spent winds in the matted spruce And the sudden honk and splash of arrow-stricken goose. And always I hear the stir of men slipping Down the Chaudière, their thin blades dripping, Catch the long low wraith of a bark canoe And the wild sweet chansons of a phantom crew. Strange smells are loosed by the hurrying prows- Wood-smoke, trade rum, dried balsam boughs; Strange smells steeped from the drip of years And dyed with the stuff of dead dreams and tears. Into the wash and waste of thy brave dèbris, Drifting through the dark night toward a dark sea, Into thy silent keeping receive from me The gleam of one more broken dream, O Ottawa! P. 249; Bliss Carman and Lorne Pierce, chosen by, 1922 (rev. 1935), "Our Canadian Literature, Representative Verse English and French," The Ryerson Press, Toronto. |
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25 Sep 07 - 05:31 PM (#2157329) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Chaudiere, canoe From: Commander Crabbe Q You're a star, what a great poem. Thanks to evryone else too. CC |
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25 Sep 07 - 09:14 PM (#2157442) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Chaudiere, canoe From: Q (Frank Staplin) Don't know where it was first published. Not in Lloyd Roberts' fine little book of lyrics, "Along the Ottawa." |