Here you will find the Long Poem The Hill Of San Sebastian of poet William Henry Drummond
I ought to feel more satisfy an' happy dan I be, For better husban' dan ma own, it 's very hard to fin' An' plaintee woman if dey got such boy an' girl as me Would never have no troub' at all, an' not'ing on deir min' But w'ile dey're alway wit' me, an' dough I love dem all I can't help t'inkin' w'en I watch de chil'ren out at play Of tam I'm jus' lak dat mese'f, an' den de tear will fall For de hill of St. Sebastien is very far away! It seem so pleasan' w'en I come off here ten year ago An' hardes' work I 'm gettin' den, was never heavy load, De roughes' place is smoot' enough, de quickes' gait is slow For glad I am to foller w'ere Louis lead de road But somet'ing 's comin' over me, I feel it more an' more It 's alway pullin' on de heart, an' stronger ev'ry day, An' O! I long to see again de reever an' de shore W'ere de hill of St. Sebastien is lookin' on de bay! I use to t'ink it 's fine t'ing once, to stan' upon de door An' see de great beeg medder dere, stretchin' far an' wide, An' smell de pleasan' flower dat grow lak star on de prairie floor, An' watch de spotted antelope was feedin' ev'ry side, How did we gain it, man an' wife, dis lan' was no man 's lan'? By rifle, an' harrow an' plow, shovel an' spade an' hoe De blessin' of good God up above, an' work of our own strong han' Till it stan' on de middle, our leetle nes', w'ere de wheat an' cornfiel' grow. An' soon de chil'ren fill de house, wit' musique all day long, De sam' ma moder use to sing on de cradle over me, I'm almos' sorry it 's be my fault dey learn dem ole tam song W'at good is it tak' me off lak dat back on ma own countree? Till de reever once more I see again, an' lissen it 's current flow An' dere's Hercule de ferry man cmoin' across de bay! Wat' s use of foolin' me lak dat? for surely I mus' know de hill of St. Sebastien is very far away! W'en Louis ketch me dat summer night watchin' de sky above, Seein' de mountain an' de lake, wit' small boat sailin' roun' He kiss me an' say - 'Toinette, I'm glad dis prairie lan' you love For travel de far you can, ma belle, it 's fine 's on top de groun'!' Jus' w'en I 'm lookin' dat beeg cloud too, standin' dere lak a wall! Sam' as de hill I know so well, home on ma own countree. Good job I was cryin' quiet den, an' Louis can't hear at all But I kiss de poor feller an' laugh, an' never say not'ing-me. W'at can you do wit' man lak dat, an' w'y am I bodder so? De firse t'ing he might fin' it out, den hees heart will feel it sore An' if he say 'Come home Toinette,' I 'm sure I mus' answer 'No', For if I 'm seein' dat place again, I never return no more! So let de heart break-I don't care, I won't say not'ing-me- I'll mak' dat promise on mese'f, an' kip it night an' day But O! Mon Dieu! how glad, how glad, an' happy I could be If de hill of St. Sebastien was not so far away!