Here in the midnight, where the dark mainland and
Shadows mingle in shadow deeper, profounder,
Sing we the hymns of the churches, while the dead
Whispers before us.
Thunder is travelling slow on the path of the lightning;
One after one the stars and the beaming
Look serene in the lake from the edge of the storm-cloud,
Then have they vanished.
While our canoe, that floats dumb in the bursting thunder,
Gathers her voice in the quiet and thrills and whispers,
Presses her prow in the star-gleam, and all her
Lapses in blackness.
Sing we the sacred ancient hymns of the churches,
Chanted first in old-world nooks of the desert,
While in the wild, pellucid Nipigon
Hunted the savage.
Now have the ages met in the Northern midnight,
And on the lonely, loon-haunted Nipigon
Rises the hymn of triumph and courage and comfort,
Adeste Fideles.
Tones that were fashioned when the faith brooded in darkness,
Joined with sonorous vowels in the noble Latin,
Now are married with the long-drawn Ojibwa,
Uncouth and mournful.
Soft with the silver drip of the regular
Falling in rhythm, timed with the liquid,
Sounds from the blades where the whirlpools break and are carried Down into darkness;
Each long cadence, flying like a dove from her
Deep in the shadow, wheels for a throbbing moment,
Poises in utterance, returning in circles of
To nest in the silence.
All wild nature stirs with the infinite,
Plaint of a bygone age whose soul is eternal,
Bound in the lonely phrases that thrill and
Back into quiet.
Back they falter as the deep storm overtakes them,
Whelms them in splendid hollows of booming thunder,
Wraps them in rain, that, sweeping, breaks and
Ringing like cymbals.
Composition date is unknown - the above date represents the first publication date.
Form: unrhyming quatrains.15.
Nipigon: lake in western Ontario north of Lake Superior.20.
Adestes Fideles:
Latin hymn of great antiquity, known in English as \
