Classic Poem

Down the river slowly drifting
Float the rafts of river-men,
While the light is slowly shifting
Backward o'er the hills again.

'Mid the silence rings their singing,
Voicing low the old refrain,
But the chanson gay beginning
Ends " Mironton, mirontaine " .

Now the myriad lights are glowing
Whitely where the city sleeps,
While the plashing drip of rowing
Upward from the river creeps.

Low the waters murmur falling,
Moaning through the Chaudiere,
Like a whispered, ghostly calling,
Voicing deep their wild despair.

Fade the distant voices singing,
Faint recurs the low refrain,
Still the chanson gay beginning,
Dies " Mironton, mirontaine " .