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The Rose Delima

You  can sew heem up in a canvas sack,   An' t'row  heem over boar' You can wait till de ship she 's comin' back   Den bury heem on de

For dead man w'en he 's dead for sure,   Ain't good for not'ing at

An' he 'll stay on de place you put heem   Till he hear dat bugle

Dey say will soun' on de las', las' dayW'en ev'ry t'ing 's goin' for pass away,

But down on de Gulf of St.

Laurent   W'ere de sea an' de reever

An' off on St.

Pierre de Miquelon,   De chil'ren on de

Can tole you story of Pierre Guillaume,   De sailor of St.

Dat 's bringin' de Rose Delima home   Affer he 's dead an' gone.         ______    He was stretch heem on de bed an' he could    n't raise hees head  So dey place heem near de winder w'ere he    can look below,

An' watch de schooner lie wit'  her topmas' on   de sky,  An' oh! how mad it mak' heem, ole Cap-   tinne Baribeau.

For she 's de fines' boat dat never was afloat From de harbour of St.

Simon to de shore of   New-fun-lan'She can almos' dance a reel, an' de sea shell on   her keel Wall! you count dem very easy on de finger     of your han'.

But de season 's flyin' fas', an' de fall is nearly     pas'  An' de leetle Rose Delima she 's doin' not-     'ing

Only pullin' on her chain, an' wishin' once     again  She was w'ere de black fish tumble, an jomp     upon de air.

But who can tak'  her out, for she 's got de     tender mout'  Lak a trotter on de race-course dat's mebbe     run

If he 's not jus' handle so-an' ole Captinne     Baribeau    Was de only man can sail her, dat 's w'at     dey offen say.

An' now he's lyin' dere, w'ere de breeze is     blow hees hair  An' he's hearin'  ev'ry morning de Rose     Delima call,

Sayin', "Come along wit' me, an' we 'll off     across de sea,  For I'm lonesome waitin' for you,

Captinne     Paul."On Anticosti shore we hear de breaker roar  An' reef of dead Man's Islan' too we know,

But we never miss de way, no matter night or     day,  De Rose Delima schooner an' Captinne     Baribeau."De Captinne cry out den, so de house is shake     again,  "Come here! come here, an' quickly, ma     daughter Virginie,

An' let me hol' your han', for so  long as I     can stan'  I'll tak' de Rose Delima, an' sail her off to     sea.""No, no, ma fader dear, you 're better stayin'     here  Till de cherry show her blossom on de     spring,

For de loon he 's flyin'  sout' an' de fall is     nearly out,  W'en de wil' bird of de nort' is on de wing."But fader dear,

I know de man can go below  Wit' leetle Rose Delima on St.

Pierre de

Hees nam' is Pierre Guillaume, an' he 'll bring     de schooner home  Till she 's t'rowin'  out her anchor on de port     of St.

Simon.""Ha!

Ha! ma Virginie, it is n't hard to see  You lak dat smart young sailor man youse'f,

I s'pose he love you too, but I tole you w'at      I do  W'en I have some leetle talk wit' heem     mese'f."So call heem up de stair" : an' w'en he 's      stannin' dere,  De Captinne say, "Young feller, you see     how sick I be?

De poor ole Baribeau has n't very much below  Beside de Rose Delima, an' hees daughter     Virginie."An' I know your fader well, he 's fine man     too,

Noël,  An' hees nam' was comin' offen on ma     prayer-An' if your sailor blood she 's only half as good  You can sail de Rose Delima from here to     any w'ere."You love ma Virginie? wall! if you promise     me  You bring de leetle schooner safely

From St.

Pierre de Miquelon to de port of St.     Simon  You can marry on my daughter,

Pierre Guil-     laume."An' Pierre he answer den, "Ma fader was your     frien'  An' it 's true your daughter Virginie I love,

Dat schooner she 'll come home, or ma nam' 's    not Pierre Guillaume  I swear by all de angel up above."So de wil' bird goin' out sout', see her shake de     canvas out,  An' soon de Rose Delima she 's flyin' down     de

An' poor young Virginie so long as she can see  Kip watchin' on dat schooner till at las'     she 's gone away.

Ho! ho! for Gaspé cliff w' en de win'  is blowin'     stiff,  Ho! ho! for Anticosti w'ere bone of dead     man lie!

De sailor cimetiere!

God help de beeg ship dere  if dey come too near de islan' w'en de wave     she 's runnin' high.

It 's locky t' ing he know de way he ought to     go  It 's locky too de star above, he know dem     ev'ry

For God he mak' de star, was shinin' up so far,  So he trus no oder compass, young Pierre     of St.

Yvonne.

An' de schooner sail away pas' Wolf Islan' an'     Cape Ray-  W'ere de beeg wave fight each oder roun' de     head of ole Pointe

Only gettin' pleasan' win'. till she tak' de     canvas in  An' drop de anchor over on St.

Pierre de     Miquelon.

We're glad to see some more, de girl upon de     shore  An' Jean Barbette was kipin' Hotel de Sans-

He 's also glad we come, 'cos we mak' de rafter     hum;

An' w'en we 're stayin' dere, ma foi!  we     spen' de monee free.

But Captinne Pierre Guillaume, might jus' as     well be home,  For he don 't forget his sweetheart an' ole     man Baribeau,

An' so he stay on boar', an' fifty  girl or more  Less dey haul heem on de bowline, dey     could n't mak' heem go.

Wall! we 're workin' hard an' fas', an' de     cargo 's on at las'  Two honder cask of w'isky, de fines' on de     worl'!

So good-bye to Miquelon, an' hooraw for St.     Simon-  An' au revoir to Jean Barbette, an' don 't     forget de girl.

You can hear de schooner sing, w'en she open     out her wing  So glad to feel de slappin' of de sea wave on     her breas'She did n't los' no tam, but travel jus' de     sam',  As de small bird w'en he 's flyin' on de even-     ing to hees nes'.

But her sail 's not blowin' out wit' de warm     breeze out de sout'  An' it 's not too easy tellin' w'ere de snow-     flake meet de

Stretchin' out on ev'ry side, all across de Gulf      so wide  W'en de nor'- eas' win' is chasin' de Rose     Delima home.

An' we 're flyin' once again pas' de Isle of     Madeleine  An' away for Anticosti we let de schooner

Lak a race-horse on de track, we could never     hol' her back-  She mebbe hear heem callin' her, ole Cap-     tinne Baribeau!

But we 're ketchin' it wan night w'en de star     go out of sight  For de storm dat 's waitin' for us, come be-     fore we know it 's dere-An' it blow us near de coas' w'ere dey leev'     de sailor's ghos'  On de shore of Dead Man 's Islan' till dey     almos' fill de air.

So de Captinne tak' de wheel, an' it mak' de     schooner feel  Jus'  de sam' as ole man Baribeau is workin'     dere

Well she know it 's life or deat', so she 's     fightin' hard for breat'  For wit' all dem wave a chokin' her, it 's     leetle she got lef'.

Den de beeges' sea of all, stannin' up dere lak     a wall  Come along an' sweep de leetle Rose De-     lima for an' af'An' above de storm a cry, "Help, mon Dieu!     before I die."  An' dere 's no wan on de wheel house, an'     we hear dem spirit laugh.

Dey 're lookin' for dead man, an' dey 're     shoutin' all dey can  Don 't matter all de pile dey got dey want     anoder wan-An' now dey 're laughin' loud, for out of all     de crowd  Dey got no finer sailor boy dan Pierre of St.     Yvonne!

But look dere on de wheel! a'at 's dat was     seem to steal  From now'ere, out of not'ing, till it reach de     pilot 's

An' steer de rudder too, lak de Captinne used     to do  So lak' de Captinne 's body, so lak de Cap-     tinne's face.

But well enough we know de poor boy's gone     below,  W'ere hees bone will join de oder on de     place w'ere dead man be-An' we only see phantome of young captinne     Pierre Guillaume  Dat sail de Rose Delima all night along de     sea.

So we help heem all we can, kip de schooner     off de lan'  W'ere bad spirit work de current dat was     pullin' us inside-But we fool dem all at las', an' we know de     danger 's pas'  W'en de sun come out an' fin' us floatin'     on de morning tide.

So de Captinne's work is done, an' nex' day de     schooner run  Wit' de sail all hangin' roun' her, to de port     of St.

Simon.

Dat 's de way young Pierre Guillaume bring     de Rose Delima home  T'roo de wil' an' stormy wedder from St.     Pierre de Miquelon.

An' de leetle Virginie never look upon de sea  Since de tam de Rose Delima 's comin'     home,

For she 's lef' de worl' an' all! but behin' de     convent wall  She don 't forget her fader an' poor young     Pierre Guillaume.

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William Henry Drummond

William Henry Drummond (April 13, 1854 – April 6, 1907) was an Irish-born Canadian poet whose humorous dialect poems made him "one of the most p…

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