ACKNOWLEDGE MENT

A number o f these verses have appea red in the pages o f Pa nel: an d the Pa ll M a ll

Ga ette n n e ea the z , a d o ch in S ecta tor the Westminster p , Ga ette the S /zere the Pa ll z , p , ' M a ll M a a ine Pea rson s g z , M aga zine an d the Now! M a a ine I am d e to g z . in ebt d the Proprietors an d E ditors fo r kindly giving me permis t h sion o reprint t e verses here.

CONTENTS

THE VAGABON D

RONDEAU

A DREAM SHIP

THE RAILWAY STATION

HARCHONS

AN ISLAND GARDEN

THE FIGURE HEAD

ALLA E O E R B D F SEPT MBE .

S OUTH SEAS

ASHO RE

THE BOBBERY PACK

HOMEWARD BOUND

’ HUNTIN WEATHER

TO A FO! CUB

CANADIAN REMOUNTS CONTE NTS

MALBROUC K w E T NOUS

PICK ET

THE FLYI NG MA N

THE RN B CO ER OY .

THE TROOPER I N VANCOUVER I N MO NTRE AL I N THE ROCK IE S IN THE SELK IRK S THE DREAMERS DEAD

THE LUMBER J ACK

S PECIAL OFFICER

THE TRAPPE R THE SOCIAL

VELD DAW N

OUTS PAN

I N E! ILE

A MEMORY I N TIME OF D ROUGHT

THE OLD MEN

NOCTURNE THE V B D AGA ON .

’ I ve s een the wizard Northern lights , w f l With s ords and spears and flags un ur ed ,

Streaming across the polar nights , o f Ghost a rm ies a shadow world .

’ I ve slept beneath the Southern Cross S - o n G K heep shearing the reat arroo , ’ I ve seen the flung Sierras toss

Like a white wave against the blue .

With gauc hos in the Ar gentine All on c hos p , spurs and greasy curls ’ I e v ridden, diced, and rolled in wine, An ls d fought them for their powdered gir .

’ I ve seen the painted rice - junks flock i n L ke gulls before the south monsoo , ’ ’ I ve warped free o f a Frisco dock An d - m —ia un wind ja med round the Horn J e . 2 VAGABOND VERSE S

’ I ve seen the sunrise strike upon Th e nitrate clippers , and the dawn Tinting their canvas till they shone k l o n w Li e li ies an emerald la n .

’ I ve traded guns for ivory, ’ I ve - fo r traded square face gin pelts, ’ I ve had a posse after me

- With forty fives loose in their belts .

’ I ve ll pu ed an idol from its perch , An d picked the rubies from its eyes , ’ I ve left fogged cruisers in the lurch , An d clubbed the Behring rookeries .

’ — - I ve been a king a flo wer crowned chief An d held a brown queen in my arms , r o n Heard the su f booming the reef, Th l e warm Trade rattling in the pa ms .

’ I ve found the bones o f miners pinned

In l - o f se f hewn graves by rocks gold, ’ I ve l kicked their skul s because they grinned,

An d felt my o wn sweat dropping cold .

’ I ve run mad through a screaming hail Of — bullets stabbed my bayonet red, An d heard o ur sunset bugles wail f Victory to the fields o dead . THE VAGABOND

’ I ve picked Life to the empty shell ’ I ve wrought and fought with fist and gun , Wo n — to fortunes gambled them Hell, ’ I ve drunk my whack and had my fun .

Now and again I wander home ’ I like to see the distant Weald s Blue back above the orchard ’ s foam Of blossom and the cowslip fields

th l l Where e s eek ca tt e browse, and where h e l w a o f la s T s ow stream inds, a thre d g s — Cool under willows it was there

T I la d s l . hat , a , first ki sed a ass

An d there beside tha t moonlit stream I to and the keep ers came grips, An d there I used to mope and drea m

Of coral isles a n d clipper ships .

’ My brother keeps my father s farm Near by the bell -chimed country town Sa is id he, Old son, your place warm , ! C l w . ome, stop with us and sett e do n

’ ’ to ee Twas good s my father s house, ’ Its e stone face set gainst t ars and time, It s - fo r window eyes with eaves brows ,

Its roof gone grey with lichen rime . 4 VAGABOND VERSES

’ ’ Twas good 0 wintry nights to lie In o la my warm bed, c me home at st , An d n hear the wind go moa ing by, The rain whipped shivering o n the bla st

To sit at dusk in some brown inn i Where bumpk n politicians vied, An d t fill their pew ers up, and spin

- Them yarns till they gaped, goggle eyed ;

To see the bron ze cock- pheasants hide Deep in the Coppery bracken fronds

Of coverts , and the mallards ride Blue -necked o n jade - green lily ponds ;

To see the tum bling pigeons wheel A bout their cots , to hear the caw Of rOOk s s to black in the elm , feel S ’ pring budding through the winter s thaw.

’ ’ Twas good to see the crocuses

Pale - fla m es candle lit in the woods, An d the star -white anemones

Like shy nuns peeping through their hoods .

Ma y hedges frothin g into flower The scent o f ploughed fields aft er rain E l E ur 1 ng and, Old ngland at her ho Yet my bo y - drea m s came ba ck again THE VAGABOND 5

—U—w —h —M fi w fi h

Ra o f ttle winches whipping freight , B P lue eters cracking at the fore, Ma tes ba wlin - belc hin gs from the reat g — g Sta ined funnels s alt whiffs from the Nore ;

Mule bells that clanked through dizzy hours

As - pack trains scaled the hanging track, Where the great glaciers soared like towers An d flashed the fires o f sunset back ;

B a ti o s lue shadows in cool p , C k lic ed castanets and twanged guitars , The a n d o f ro deos rush dust , Lone camp fires under lonelier stars

he l T roped convo vulus in bloom, h r s T e strong Trade droning th ough the palm , Al ’ ong the reef the breaker s boom, A sun -girl with her golden arms ;

’ The yellow moon o er jungle swamps Where tom- toms thumped a devil dance s — S C To haunted mi ts , the tampede amps ’ Th e l G lure , the ust , the ambler s chance

o f l Chanties shellbacks hauling brai s ,

Odours of coma, tar and brine, Wide billowy skies and Open trails B Go d i y , they tugged this heart Of mine 6 VAGABOND VERSES

In K sa ent the green p surged to head, An d ploughboy lovers clumped to meet Their milkmaid loves where white thorns sprea d

Bridal confetti at their feet .

B l l lks y i ac bowers, down flowery wa S dr - e wung oning, honey drunken be s The ff l l da odi s danced on their sta ks ,

- Swayed by the ballet ma ster breeze .

Pale jasmines lit the garden close - i With wide eyed stars . In a iry fl ght D fli o anced butter es from rose to r se ,

- Like wind blown petals red and white .

T l Me e hrough the green hi ls the dway flow d, With brown - sailed barge and drifting Wherry Under green hills the Pilgrims ’ Road

Curled o n to Holy Ca nterbury .

Life in o ur midst went shod an d sha wled Time was a drowse of Arca dy Yet all ll day long the prairies ca ed, l An d all night ong I heard the sea .

I - fa l said good bye to rm and fie d, ’ Then at the Old inn s mullioned pane D K ale K al rank ent to the entish We d , An l d whist ing faced the road again . A FANTASY

A FANTAS Y.

To STELLA .

If yo u were a white rose Columbine An d I were a Harlequin , ’ I d o n n leap and sway my spa gled hips, An d blow you a kiss with my finger tips, An d woo a smile t o your petal lips

With every glittering spin .

If I were a pig-tailed Buccaneer An d B you were a ristol girl , A- rolling home from over the sea ’ I d o u o n give y a hug the landing quay, A - a hook nosed parrot th t swore like me , ’ - O - An d a brooch of mother pearl .

If you were a Dona o f o ld Ca stile An d I a Troubadour were , I ’d sing at night beneath your room, ' An d weave your dreams in a minstrel s loom With rainbow tears and the roses ’ bloom An d star -shine out o f the sky. VAGABOND VE RSE S

If I were a powdered E xquisite An d o u Bellairs y were a fair , I ’d press your hand in the gay pavane, An d whisper under your painted fan As I bowed y o u into your blue sedan

At the Old Assembly stairs .

If you were a Watteau shepherdess An d I were a gipsy lad, ’ I d o u s teach y tune that the blackbird trills, An d o u o f ff show y the dance the da odils, The o s n ll white mo n ri i g over the hi s,

An d night in her jewels clad .

If you were the queen of Make - Believe ’ An d I P 0 were the rince Dream, We ’ d dress the world in a rich rom ance

P a - With ans piping and queens that dance , With mantle and plume and rapier glance ’ a - An d Beauty s eyes glea m .

If P o wn I were a oet, sweet, my , An d u you were my Lady tr e, ’ I d hymn your pra ise by night an d m o m

With golden notes through a silver horn , Th at unborn men in an age unborn o f Might thrill with a dream you .

1 0 VAGABOND VE RSE S

D M A REA SHIP .

O I I d n , wish ha a clipper ship with carvings o

her counter, With lanterns on her poop - rail o f bea ten copper wrought l ’ I d an d dress her like a lady in the whitest cloth, mount her With a long bow - Chasing swivel and a gun at

every port .

’ I d sign me o n a master who had solved Mer ’ c a t o r s riddle, A nigger cook with earrings who neither chewed

nor drank, Wh o wore a red bandanna and was handy o n the fiddle ’ ’ I d -bo take a piping bos un , and a cabin y to

spank .

Then some clear sum mer morning when the

Falmouth cocks were crowing, I would set my capstan Spinning to the chant s ing Of all hand , An d the milkm aids o n the uplands would lament see to me going, As I bea ti fo ri o pen Channel and away to

foreign lands . A DRE AM SHIP 1 1

Fa re e well m rett on e y , y p y , ’ For the a n chor s a t the cat- head and the voyage

is begun . ’ is in the m a insail we re sli in The wind , pp g r the lan d f om ,

a l -d an d a ll sa il m a kin c lose- ha uled with H l own g, the white-ta s breakin p g, B un d or the Ri o Gra n de o f , Fa re ye well !

With the flyin g- fish around us and a porpoise

school before us, ’ E i ll crowded under royals to the south ard

we would sweep . We would hear the bull -whales blowing and the

mermaids sing in chorus , An d i , perhaps, the white seal mumm es hum s their chubby calves t o lee . . p

We would see the ho t towns pa ddling in the surf o f S an p ish waters , We would prowl beneath dim balconies a n d

twang discreet guitars , ’ We would sigh o ur a doration to Do n Jua n s lovely daughters Till they lifted their mantillas and their dark es s ey hone like stars . 1 2 VAGABOND VERSE S

We would cruise by fairy islands where the

gaudy parrot screeches, An d the turtle in his soup -tureen floats basking in the calms We would see the firefli es winking in the bush

above the beaches, An d a moon o f honey- yellow drift ing up

behind the palms .

l l We wou d crown ourselves with gar ands, we would tread a frolic measure With the nut -brown island beauties in the firelight by the huts We would give them rum and kisses we would fo r i hunt p rate treasure, An d bombard the apes with pebbles in ex

change for cocoanuts .

’ ’ When we wearied of our wa n d rings neath the

blazing southern heaven, An d dreamed of K entish orchards fragrant scented after rain Of C the cream there is in ornwall, and the cider brewed in Devon We would crowd o ur yards wi th canvas and m sweep foa ing home again . A DRE AM SHIP 1 3

S i Cheeril 0 lad m in e ing ng y, y Cheeril m sweethea rt true y , y , ’ ’ For the blest Blue Peter s flyin g a n d I m ro llin g ho m e to you ’ For I m tired of S p a n ish la dies a n d of trop ic a ter lows f g , ea rtsi ck or a E n lish S rin - tim e a ll a re H f n g p g , fi a E li h Rin - tim e for n n g s g , I n lo ve ith a E lish rose w n n g , R ’ o llin g Hom e . 1 4 VAGABOND VE RSE S

T R T HE AILWAY S TA ION .

’ Th e sk l y is ike some beggar prince s cloak, All o f crimson rags and tattered cloth gold ,

Hung with the ruby Of a sun grown Old, S l ’ mou dering low amid the city s smoke . — The station lamps festoon on long festoon — Of molten pearls glow in the valley mist, s The signals hine emerald, amethyst . ’ Al C a - Night is addin s ave ll jewel strewn . MARCHONS 1 5

MARCHONS .

’ ll et o We s ur feet to the broad highroad . a l With never a c re , with never a oad, NO guide but the stars a - high P ’ erchance we ll come to the Amazon, To P t the golden kingdom Of res er John, To El Dorado o r Babylon

a uo t I . J q , Jeannette and

’ M sieu un l l the S wi l laugh with ight,

Madame the Moon will smile by night, ’ S sk ilver rose 0 the y . ’ l We ll rouse the world with a rounde ay, With an Old cracked fiddle to cheer the An d a bottle o f wine at close Of day

Ja uo t I . q , Jeannette and VAGABOND VE RSE S

I N AN S LA D GARDEN .

A mong the green and golden leaves, A jewelled lizard slips A long the cool verandah eaves, he r T blue wistaria d ips .

Billows of red geraniums pour Over a sunlit wall Foam -broidered on the sounding shore a The deep se breakers fall .

he sea T wind shakes the jalousies, An d up the garden blows S cents Of the flowery almond trees,

M . agnolia, and rose

m Fortuna in a ha mock swings, G azing the blue above, She picks a mandolin, and sings A madrigal o f love Tra lirra lirra lirra , , l o f A lazy song love .

1 8 VAGABOND VE RSES

Th e captain wore his blue coat with buttons o f brass The mate he greased his forelock at the cabin looking - glass ’ ’ The bos un paced the fo c a stle and coughed Ah ha , ahem l But the merry - maid sh e turned her back and ’ wouldn t look at them .

’ An d every starry evening she d swim in the foam About the bows a - singing like a nightingale at

home . She ’ d call to him and sing to him as sweetly

as a bird, But the wooden -headed efligy he never said a

word .

An d every starry evening in the Doldrum calms ’ She d wriggle up the bob - stay and throw her tender arms A l bout his scarlet shou ders , and fondle him

and cry, An d his stroke curly whiskers , but he never

winked an eye .

’ She couldn t get an answer to her tears o r a mo ns , SO she went and told her da ddy, told the ancient D avy Jones . THE FIGURE HE AD 1 9

O d D l avy damned his eyesight , and puzzled of his wits Then he whistled up his hurricanes and tore

the brig t o bits .

D o n - own the ocean bed, green fathoms deep, Where the wrecks lie rotting and the great sea

serpents creep , ’ In a gleaming grotto all built o f sailors bones ur - t o M Sits the handsome fig e head, listening iss

Jones .

’ S 0 - ongs love she sings him the live long day, An d she ha ngs upon his bosom and sobs the night

away, But fo r his he never, never answers , beneath soldier paint ’ The wooden -hea ded lunatic still thinks that he s

a saint . 20 VAGABOND VE RSE S

BA ADE OF S EPTE MBER LL .

e When the stre ts are hot , and the dusty trees

Throw quivering shadows all in a row, e When the flies persist , and the bumble b es Hum drowsy canticles as they go m o w When the mowers glisten as they , ’ An d n ripe s the year to the golde prime , Then show me the way that leads Westward HO An d hey fo r the sea in September time

I ask but little—to loaf at ease D h I own a shining sapp ire road know, An idle tiller between my knees ,

While the lazy jibs slat to and fro , t o The ripples cluck the keel below, An d sunbeams high in the cabin climb , Till the last coast fades in a golden glow O ’ S h, it s hey for the sea in eptember time 1

’ There s a beat o f bells o n the Off-shore breeze An d out of the purple, stately slow, o n Like a white ship sailing silver seas , The moon drifts over the starry bo w BALLADE OF SEPTEMBE R 21

The wheeling beams o f the Lon gships throw A wink at the Wolf, and a peace sublime Creeps up as the whispering waters flow ’ O it s sea S h, hey for the in eptember time

E n voi .

Sir P - rince, whenever dog roses blow An d good blood beats to a languid rhyme,

Then seize whatever the Fates bestow, An d hey for the sea in September time 2! VAGABOND VE RSES

S S OUTH S EA .

Glassy billows heave and sink ’ h o t Neath the white glare of noon , T ween - decks in the first saloon S iphons hiss , and glasses clink .

s ~ Flying fi hes skim the swell , Like a flight o f silver spears

Fat men wake and cock their ears , u Listening for the l ncheon bell .

Some hair - Oily Hebrew Sparks ’ Yarn o f igh life o n the Rand Lovers dreaming hand in hand Sa — y , Oh, look the pretty sharks

Overside in bobbing files

C - ruise frail , pink sailed nautili , Fairy galleons drifting by T o enchanted coral isles . ASHORE 23

ASHORE .

’ e r c m n —so e o ff a n L tte o e to ha d, mate you r ag i , BOOm in o ld r HOrn and g down the t ail , Frisco

bound, ’ Thrashing round the Fastn et in the Sou west

ram , ! Ca r o n ! All l —L I r y then hands ord , know the round ’ M e an d 0 sea s an d ue il s miles green s , league leag s ’ 0 blue Da the u m o ld y by day, timbers gr nt the sa e tune ; Night by night the same stars cock their eyes at y o u No t fl m d a girl to irt with, save the sa e o l m o on .

R shuflle ear ound about my ears , mate , w y feet , ’ While I sit here drudging in the City s heat But fr somewhere om the clamour, a small voice calls to m e ’ n M sun Dippi g o er the ersey bars , with the On light her spars , ’ s There a white ship running out to sea . 24 VAGABOND VE RSE S

o ut Then I seem to see you , shaking the cloth , B n o n - l ala ced a foot rope , whi e the ship beneath

- s Drags her lee rail under, snout the flying froth, An d tramples down the blue seas , with a

bone in her teeth . ’ Twenty shellbacks singing some o ut - bounder s chant — Rio Grande o r Ranzo brace and stay and shroud Humming like a great harp ; shining decks

aslant , ’ West - so u - west sh e rushes like a sun bright

cloud .

While I lie here tossing through the sleepless

nights , - a - sk Taxi cabs hooting, y all hazed with lights , s Then a voice comes taunting , oft and sly to me

With the curled foam at her breast , with her n jibboom pointi g west , ’ s There s a white ship running out to ea .

26 VAGABOND VE RSE S

HE BOBBERY PA K T C .

’ Andy Ha rt iga n s dead an d gone

Over the hills and further yet, But he drank good port an d his red face shone f S Like a cider apple o omerset .

’ 0 Ten strange couple hounds he had, Gaunt old brutes that had hun ted fo x Back in th e days when Noah was a lad ks Touched in the bellows and gone at the ho o .

’ e Hounds he d stole from a Harri r pack, ’ u s r w n Ho nd he d bor o ed and begged and fou d , Grey and yellow and t a n a n d black ’ E very conceivable kind 0 hound .

He r s an d few called them Ha rier , a — Were harriers back when the world began ’ e r r l h dr But th y we en t pa ticu ar where t ey ew, ’ An d they weren t particular what they ran .

I m im c e o f a o m ind h On byg ne orn ,

n fl a - r e Ruddy and round o his e bit ho s , o n Twanging a tune his battered horn, n A d capping them into the Frenchman gorse . THE BOBBE RY PACK 27

o ut o f They pushed a brown hare her form, An d a o f swung on her line with crash tongues , But a vixen crossed and her scent was warm ,

So they ran her, screeching to burst their

lungs .

’ ’ M Lo rd s They ran her into demesne, ’ ’ Where M La dy s fallows were grazing free a n d They picked a stag followed again,

Singing like souls in ecstasy .

They chased the stag up over the ridge, n With lolli g tongues and with heaving flanks , They lost him down by the Clu ddla h Bridge ’ Bu o n Cluddla h s t killed an otter banks .

They had no pace and they had no style, Their manners were bad and their morals

slack, — They were noisy but wonderful versatile ’ Ha i an s B P Andy rt g obbery ack . 28 VAGABOND VE RSE S

ME WARD B HO OUND .

We hauled her down the river, An d h er - o we let tow rope g , We felt her heave and shiver sea - ft With the li down below . We dipped o ur colours gravely G To the rosy Rio rande , As sh e bowed a n d swaggered bravely o f To the purple line land . sun hi The went down be nd her, a n d Like a lantern red round, ’ An d o h , lass hullo , lass , we re bowling Home

ward bound .

’ For it s om e lo ve H tha is c a llin in the H , , om e, t g

breez e, ’ Oh it s om e love om e tha t she s lls be on d , H , , H , me y

the seas,

With the o ld m o o rs the o ld o rs , g m o , The ha wthorn s ashin sn ow fl g , ' Where the da o dils a re blowin fi g, An d the ill - owers a re rowi n g y fl g g, I n a va lley tha t we kn ow

She f n dl sni fed the trade wi ds col y, T n ill we spread her wi gs of sail , HOMEWARD BOUND 29

l Then she climbed the surges bold y, As sea a bird breasts the gale, An d the blue seas broke around her In o f a wreath twisting whey, An d the chargin g breakers crowned her In a rain bow veil of Spray But she swooped, and drooped, and battled, A e y , and leapt them like a hound ’ Fo r ! , Oh, lass hullo, lass , we re bowling Home ward bound

’ For it s o me love ome tha t is ca llin in the H , , H , g

breez e, ’ Oh it s om e lo ve om e tha t she sm ells be on d , H , , H , y

the seas,

With the re house a n d the re bou hs g y g y g , Where the a le blossom s ro w p p g , ’ Tis the ver la c e or roa m in y p f g, I n the sta rshin e or the lea in g m g, I s a va lley tha t we kn o w

’ A e n y , She s comi g, coming, coming,

Though the way is lone and long , Yo u can hear the waters drumming To her heart ’s eternal song ’ ’ Tis an Old road that she s treading u With every stitch unf rled, 30 VAGABOND VE RSE S

’ By moon and stars she s threading

Her path across the world . ’ Through shin e a n d storm she s h eading For a hill -locked western soun d ’ Fo r o h s ! , la s hullo, lass , we re bowling Home ward bound

’ For it s om e lo ve om e ha t s a llin in the H , , H , t i c g

’ Oh it s Home love om e that s s ell b on d , , , H , he m s ey

the seas,

Wi h a r h a h t the de ills n d t e c lea r ri lls , An d the rses a ll a l go g ow, For the little birds a re m a tin g An d a brown - eyed lass i s waiti n g I n a va lley tha t we kn ow HUNTIN ’ WEATHER 31

’ WE R HUNTI N ATHE . (1 91 5)

’ ’ There s a do g - fox down in La nn iga n s spinney ’ ’ (Ah La n n iga n s wife has fowls to mourn ) h inn e The hunters stamp in their stalls and w y , S ’ ’ oft wid leisure and fat wid corn .

’ a sturi l The colts are p n bold and usty, S ’ leek they are wid their coats aglow, — Ripe to break but the bits grow rusty, ’ si An the saddles t in a dusty ro w.

’ ’ Old O Dw er wa s a M n y here o day, ’ ’ Wid a few grey gra n fathers o ut for a field ’ (Like the ghostly hunt o f a dead an done day )! ’ ’ They an some lassies that giggled an squealed .

The boun ’ s they rioted like the devil ’ (They ran a hare an they killed a go ose ) I cursed Caubeen but he looked me level ’ s W t us The boys are away, o hat s he e

’ ’ s i in bo n The mist lie c l ng to g a heather, o n l The haws hang red the si ver thorn , ’ ’ ’ e er Tis huntin weather, ay , huntin wm h . ’ But the trumpets an bugles ha ve beat 32 VAGABOND VE RSE S

B TO A FO! C U . (1 91 5)

- When the market cob is housed, An d the cabin lamp is doused, An d the banshee o wl hoots through the silver

birches ,

- When the sheep dogs are asleep, R Then creep, ufus , creep, i r For the cockerels s t d owsing o n their perches .

Where the willows lean beyond, o n There are ducklings the pond,

- Worm fed and to be had with little trouble, An d P the heasants feed at ease, Fo r the Squire went overseas

His gun will bark no more across the stubble .

Yo u may flesh your crescent claws , Yo u n may glut your taw y jaws, When the evil Poacher ’s moon is up and beckon in g, SO R revel , ufus , revel , P rowl , pounce , and play the devil , But remember there will come a day of reckoning .

For some grey - eyed winter morn Yo u will hear a twanging horn An d o f - s whimpers hound mu ic swell and slacken ,

34 VAGABOND VERSE S

’ ’ ’ E r o ut sc ra in bloke s p p with the rest , P ’ ’m ushin a bay it in Argonne . ’ ’ She wears is photo on er breast

Mo n sez n . Jean , she , the French for Joh

’ ’ ’ E isn t o n e o them that slings ’ e The ink with ease , cannot spell , ’ ’ SO sends er bits 0 Shell and things ’ er To let know that all is well .

’ ’ She ears the gun s boom night an day ’ She n burstin sees the shrap el black, m s The sweaty colu n march away, ’ ’ The stretchers bringin of em back .

’ She aint got no war - leggings on ’ ’ E r picture s never in the Press ’ Out sc o ut in —s h e finds breeks no bon, ’ ’ An o n carries in last year s dress .

’ — ’ She don t sell fla gs she ain t that kind ; ’ ’ Ten pleec em en couldn t make er sit In Tablow Veevo n gs for the Blind ’ But she r all the same does e bit . MADAME 35 ’

At dawn she tows a spotty c o w

‘ To munch upon the village green ’ Sh e be in d plods for miles a plough, ’ ’ o ur a n An takes w shin in betwee .

’ a 0 u She tills plot Sp ds besides, ’ n sun A burnt like copper in the , ’ She a tosses y all day, then rides ’ ’ b The orse Ome when the jo is do ne .

The times is ’ard— I got me woes ’ ’ With blistered feet an this an that , ’ ’ ’ ’ An o t — d kn Ows she s g er s the good Lor , Al she t he though never chews fat .

But B ’ ’ when the osche as gulped is fill , ’ ’ ’ ’ An blo o m in S crawled Ome to is pree , ’ We ll go upon the bust, we will , ’ ’ M M n eer a a n th adame an o s Je n e .

Artois, 1 91 5 . 36 VAGABOND VE RSE S

M CANADIAN RE OUNTS .

B o n o f ronco dams they ran by, the ranges the

prairies , Heard the chicken drumming in the scented S n askatoo , m n - Sa w the jewelled hum i g birds , the flocks Of n s pale ca arie , Heard the coyotes dirging t o the ruddy

northern moon .

Woolly foals , leggy foals , foals that romped and

wrestled, Rolled in beds o f golden - rod and charged in

mimic fights , o ut Sa w the frosty Bear wink , and comfortably n estled Close beside their vixen dams beneath the

wizard Lights .

— Far from home and overseas , Older now and

wiser,

Branded with the arrow brand, broke to

trace and bit , ’ Tugging up the grey gun s t o strafe the blo o m in K ! aiser, Up the hill to K em m ell where the mauser bullets spit CANADIAN RE MOUNTS 37

stiffened with the cold rains , mired and tired

and gory, Plun ging through the mud - holes as the bat o t ries advance,

Far from home and overseas , but battling on to

glory, With the E nglish eighteen pounders and the

a - uin s o f soiw n te q z e France . 88 VAGABOND VERSE S

B K ~E T N MAL ROUC 0US .

Wh en the Great Duke Ma rlborough took the field e The ladies waved and the b lfries pealed,

The cottars shouted from roofs and ricks ,

- The drum boys flourished their polished sticks , The cym bals clashed and the trumpets played

A brazen clarion fanfaronade . Behind the lumbering cannon paced n The scarlet infa try, frogged and laced . f In velvets , ru fles and crimped perukes ’ The noble gentlemen of the Duke s Terrible cavalry jingled by

With banners splendid against the sky .

War is not what it was of yore .

Our trumpets lie in the Depot store, Our M colours hang in the Depot ess , ’ We re n o t conspicuous in o ur dress

Leather and khaki , drab and tan , r i r cri Is the de n e for a fighting man . But we like our noise, and we make a band

Of any Old thing that comes to hand, An d we throw o ur chests and we shift our shi ns

To penny whistles and biscuit tins . o n Though we drum to war a biscuit lid, ’ We ll do as the great Duke Marlborough did .

Flan ders, 1 91 5 . PICK ET 39

The clouds stampede across the moon . A Like mad grey mares . long the plain

Sweep the chill lances of the rain .

s - Drear in the tree the nigh winds rune .

The white sword of a searchlight splits sk in n The y twain , then , quiveri g, falls On a black waste o f Shattered walls

Of - - bare rib roofs and crater pits .

Far in the north the guns begin U sk To grumble . p the leaden y , A o f o f shen face and bleared eye, in n s s . Daw , like a gho t , creeps hivering

Fla n d rs e . 40 VAGABOND VE RSE S

H Y M N T E FL ING A .

i When the st ll , shivery dawn uprolls , An d all the world is standing to , When young lieutenants damn o ur souls Because they ’ re feeling cold and blue

The bacon ’ s trodden in the slush ’ e Th baccy s wet , the stove gone wrong ’ Then purring o n the m o m in g s hush h l We ear his cheerfu little song .

The shafts o f sunrise strike his wings Tinting them like a dragon - fly ;

He bows to the ghost moon, and swings

- Flame coloured up the rosy sky .

i f He dips , he darts , he j bes , he lu fs Like a great bee he drones aloud f He whirls above the shrapnel pu fs , An d i laughing ducks beh nd a cloud .

He rides aloof on god -like wings

Taking no thought of wire and mud , — Sap, smells or bugs the mundane things o ur That sour lives and have our blood .

42 VAGABOND VE RSE S

ER B THE CORN OY.

His soft grey eyes were full of guile

An d laughed as at some private jest . He met all fortun es with a sm ile

Because a smile came easiest .

With foes he fought , with friends he drank , He burnt fo r salmon in the black Wet nights—got gaoled and scrubbed his

plank, his Had scarce a whole coat to back .

—Go d War came knows what drove him on , o f r What spur pove ty or pluck, o ur But o n e fin e day rogue was gone . n i d We wondered, wi ked, and w she him luck .

At Messine Ri dge he faced the Shell ,

An d stopped one fairly in the head . He plunged a few blind yards and fell

!uivered a little and was dead .

The boys drink in the Old shebeen,

The salm on swim the brawling burn . THE CORNE R BOY 43

Beneath the Flemish sod serene

He slumbers on , beyond concern .

f No niche o Fame his memory fills , But yet , perchance, when stars have lit Some valley o f the Galway hills — A lone girl weeps a little bit . 44 VAGABOND VE RSE S

THE TROOPER .

’ l S o I ve hol owed my back in the Riding cho l , Broken my neck and been damned for a fool Lea rnt to parry and poin t and guard Till my arm was lead and my wrist went dead

fid ettin - Wisped my g g, long faced pard Till he shon e with a silky shine : ’ Lea m in h o w in C the avalry, ’ C The jaunty, j inglin avalry, ’ o n That rides the right 0 the Line .

Now here am I like a blinded mole Toil in a furrow and sleep up a hole

Dug in a grave twelve foot by three, M s u y strappings bu t and my spurs all r st, ’ With nothin but two mud walls to see , ’ Sluice d with the drivin sleet Me I that was in the Cavalry, ’ swa erin The saucy, gg Cavalry, ’ Slo ggin my two flat feet

I longs all day and I dreams all night - -h o Of a Slap bang, Tally open fight

One fair chance on the Open plain , ’ Then knee to kn ee like a wave 0 the sea THE TROOPE R 45

We ’ ll blood our irons again and again ’ In th un r - de in squadron line . ’ ’ We ll give em a taste o f the Cavalry G D s ( uards and Lancers, Hussars , ragoon ), The l C a on y original av lry, ’ An d gallop em over the Rhine .

Arto is , 1 91 5 . 46 VAGABOND VE RSE S

I R N VANCOUVE .

She drifted down the roaring street B n etween the clangi g, crashing cars , s n The flaring store and brawli g bars ,

n - - O tiny black silk slippered feet . — Her face a smooth and yellow pearl Seemed all devoid o f joy or fear A waxen rose above each c a r C She wore, this slender hinese girl .

Of rosy silk her trousers were , E dged with a tinsel silver braid E ach button was o f ca rven jade

A jade comb held her polished hair .

She wandered down that western way — Dreaming beyond the din and mud

A - little attar scented bud, B lown from the garden of Cathay . IN MONTRE AL 47

M IN ONTREAL .

s s The teel sky dims and the hadows fall , Dusk steals cloaked through the frozen town The low sun hangs like a copper ball ’

Mid s . domes and spires , then smoulder down

P s Like ompadours in a day long lo t , The stately trees in the square below

Have hung their tresses with gems of frost , An d decked their heads with the powdered

snow .

The sleigh lamps glide , and a musical Tinkle o f bells peals up to me ’ Tis the march o f a goblin carnival o f In a palace gleaming ivory . 48 VAGABOND VE RSES

I I N THE ROCK ES .

o f The stars withdraw, a wind morning drags

Grey smoking mists along the gulches . Pines In shaggy armi es storm the blackened crags Up through the streaming vapours to the e - timb r lines . l Then suddenly the piled clouds fil with light ,

B . illow and swell , a pure and dazzling white

Opal and pearl and rose the glacier shines .

Washed by a foam o f clouds the great peaks

gleam, High worlds apart from sha dowed woods a n d vales B D s elow . ream island magical they seem C oasted by silver ships with silken sails , Or brazen towers o f a dragon - keep i c Where w tches spin and lost prin esses sleep,

In golden cities from o ld Fairy tales .

50 VAGABOND VE RSES

THE DREAME RS .

Rough - housed benea th the northern light a i We lay, and he rd the blizzard wh ne , - s Ice tongued , acro s the tossing pine , n Am o g the mountain gorges crying . s e The red stove hi sed, the pipe smoke curl d

Thick round the lamp, and each man told ul st m c k What he wo d do if he gold, The yellow di rt and found the world f r His o the buying .

— E ach had his dreams in Go d knows what Forgotten ends o f earth conceived In Yukon wastes where bare pea ks cleaved i A ’ The w ld urora s lonely splendour, B a r s y brawling c mps and desert fi e , E ach sa w his star above the strife u a o f Thro gh the brut lities Life, E ach in his heart kept some desires C herished and tender .

Big Dutch would drink his mighty fill Am ong the vineyards Of the Rhi ne Le Roi but asked a little pine Cabane beside the Aux Sables River THE DRE AME RS 51

S a lim c lled for jewelled women , song, P s w erfume , the glo ing lights that gild A city ’ s nights while Pete would build c t C A o in ornwall , where the long i Atlantic surges sh ver .

sa w Y i Red the orksh re dales again , ’ He heard the blackcock s whirring wing Down green - hun g coppices in Spring

Sn ifl ed s n n . primroses , saw phea a ts mati g Dreams Dreams Before Fate fills o ur hand n l With fortu e, pride and hope wi l shake ; Man y a back and heart will break An d many girls in many lan ds

Grow o ld in waiting . 52 VAGABOND VE RSE S

EA D D .

— Dead in his but o f rough -split shingles lying ’ n Two miners candles Spear the wavi g gloom . ’ Mo um ed by the mountain pines wind -rutfled sighing

An d thresh of rain without the barren room . Its s sen e of peace and dreamless sleep despoiling , A gash burns raw across the quiet head, The black hair matted still with sweat o f toil ing Dead 1

Dead —and an end to him who heard the crying Of - scent hot hounds across the dewy Shires , Who sa w the golden dust Of evenin g lying o f On that fair city the dreaming spires , Who thrilled to violins and warmed the glances Of i gracious women , seized l fe, jewelled, red, An d flung, gay, gallant through her devil dances Dead

Dead —and an end to all the bruised soul ’s s taunting , To hells of memory that wake and blaze DEAD 58

D - ead, and an end to all the night long hauntings Of loves long lost and buried yesterdays An end to all the passion and the squandering To s t o loneline s , squalor, to the dread

Of hopeless morrows, to the toiling and the wandering Dead

British Co lumbia . 54 VAGABOND VE RSE S

B J A K THE L UM ER C .

’ ’ He s logged from Rainy Ri ver round the Crow s S Nest and pokane, R C ’ The ockies and the oast he s logged, from Newfoundland t o Maine ; ’ ’ ’ S h e s He s logged it North, he s logged it outh, E logged it ast and West , ’ He s a hulking, backwoods gipsy, the plaything f o unrest . ’ ’ lo l He ll scale a g with half a glance, he d bui d a tight lo g - shack ; ’ o f He s tackled every kind stick, from spruce

to tamarack . C n He rips the tall oast timber dow , and hauls

it round like straws , ’ ’ I ll give em guts , them big blue butts

M . Says Mr. ackinaws

’ U - a pon the skidway, cant hook armed, he ll c tch a runaway d ’ ’ An roll it back . He ll ride a log, thro rapids

swept with spray . He ’ll fall a redwood Titan down precisely where

desired, — An d chop it into Chippen dale i f such should be

required . THE LUMBE R JACK 55

’ He ll set and file a ten - foot saw that rips out

worms of dust , ’ ’ - a n d He ll Oil it when it s resin clogged, work it

clean o f rust . ’ o ld He s not an ornamental thing, this hard

bunch of claws , ’ But in the woods he s all the goods,

M . Is Mr. ackinaws

’ Then suddenly his o ld unrest comes o er him at

a burst , r hi s i He d aws time and h ts for town, develop ing a thirst

- h o m im in The tin artist ropes h , and lifts his

- sweat earned stake, a n d a The bar draws toll , what th t leaves the

painted women take .

Then fogged, and thick, and parched, and sick, o f his head a buzz pain ,

He rolls his Old grey blankets up, and seeks the

bush again . A un va m ished P o f plain , agan he, this slave

axe and saws , ’ But he tough and rough, s good enough , I s Mr. Mackinaws . 56 VAGABOND VE RS ES

ALONE .

The wind moans round my little shack, An d whimpers through each hole and crack ; Poor homeless soul 1 The gus ty rain n o n Shatters its la ces the pane,

- s . Without, night stand , blind eyed and black

Beyond the insufficient light Of o n e my lamp, half hid from sight,

Dim shadows crouch ; the wandering ghosts , P ale murdered chiefs of bygone hosts ,

Creep in fo r shelter from the night .

U pon the wind there comes the drear, o f Faint , yap wolves from corners peer D s ark Shapes, and round about me pre s The flitting ghouls o f lonelin ess

That whisper madness in my ear .

r s rrito ri s No th We t Te e .

58 VAGABOND VE RSE S

(I guess he meant his buckskin mare)

Then choked and coughed away to Hell .

f The sheri f shook me by the hand,

The boys applauded quite a lot, An d shouted drinks to beat the band

It was a kinder pretty shot .

The pa rson said I done the right —But he To clean the countryside . Com es cra wlin g to m y fire a t n ight c h a h a a a An d oug s nd c oug s w y t m e.

t N o rth West Terri o ries . THE TRAPPE R 59

THE TRAPPE R .

’

E m a em me . Las moon , loise, f , go die ’ er Ah burn z e candle for soul . Sa P C z e y Father ierre, ome dry eye , ’ ’ ’ S z e - o n i h he m wit angel bunch g , ’ ’ E loise she m safe in c a ven ly

’ ’ E c o m a n ee loise she m wit good p , Sh e cook no more for hun gree man ’ ’ Ze col an snow no trouble she Ah wo n da ire do she tink of me ’ Left ere alone in ole c aba n e

’ ’ ’ z e E loise she m gone, an roun place She se n La belle on ta ine e g no more f , s - s n Nor ki s z e frost mark o my face . ’ ’ ’ ’ Bu z e t when nor win Owl an chase ,

Forgotten voices call again .

‘

n . in z e Ah Whe blanket warm lie, ’ ’ Ah ear z e win make grand stampede ’ ’ Ze stove e wink m small red eye ’ An douwz e leetle voices cry ’ o u bee What do y ere , g lazy breed VAGABOND VE RSE S

’ Ze shadows move an through them slinks ’ A stripey coon then in z e drai ’ - Ah ear z e cat purr o f a lynx . A z e duskee long beam sit minks , ’ An soft z e leetle voices laugh .

In i willow brush l e birch canoe, ’ Rem em ba ire Ow she kiss z e stream ’ ’ Ow light in portage Ow sh e flew ’ ’ fo a m in ra eeds o w o n Through p , blue ’ Still la cs she dreeft like sheep O dream

’ Yo n n z e buckskin Shirt ang o wall , ’ ’ Yo n gun an snowshoe ang below, Ze caribou run fat this Fall , Ze bull - moose by z e swamp - edge call

’ B Gar Ah Ah ll 1 y , tink go THE SOCIAL 6 1

THE S OCIAL .

’ ’ s S O t win klin Little red hoes , light an swiftly ’ so l Little white hands , soft an warm to ho d ’ B c rin klin onnie bright hair above her eyebrows , ’ Piled o n the small head in coils O polished

gold .

’ Red was her mouth, an it hovered just before me , S n ce ted her breath, and it touched my ’ t hrillin cheek ’ M sh e y arm held, an down the shining floor we - —I - t o Swept , music led too plumb dazed

speak .

’ ’ Gladly an madly sang Paddy Heenan s fiddle ’ ’ ’ a - a n (Old grey head noddin , tappin toe

heel), ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ St e in c irc lin c ro ssm pp an , an up the middle , ’ Baldy o f the 2 - Ba r a - callin Off the reel

’ Birdie um out a n o ckie um in j p , H j p , ’ o cki e um out a n ive her a s in H j p , g p , ’ Then ha ds r n d n ow o it a in n ou , g g ,

S ass u en ts throw a little m ore st le. y p , g , y 62 VAGABOND VE RSE S

f ’ Homewards I ride , the pale dawn Slowly li tin ,

Mile after mile my pony lopes along . B o ack through the night , my rosy thoughts g ’ drift in , ’ ’

Trem blin . my heart , an in my head a song

’ ’ lea m in Little red mouth , an gold hair brightly g , ’ ’

0 . Warm was her breath, an soft the touch her ‘ ’ ’ n P Oh 0 How went that tu e , what s the use ’ n dreami , Me n , a commo cowboy, what earns but ! forty per .

No rth West Territories . VELD DAWN 63

The breezes whisper and the grasses stir,

Up the chill sky pale tides of morning run . Over far fla m e-tipped kops the Vorlooper s n Leads up the golden wagon of the u .

A jackal barks , the pert green parrots scream, A hawk wheels up and down the eastern slope hi With curved horns gh and sable hide agleam , o f i With fires morning spr ngs an antelope .

—- Vorloo o x l ad r r na m fo r th o rni r. p er e e , Boe e e M ng Sta 64 VAGABOND VE RSE S

UT PA O S N .

Sky and horizon meet blurr f Fused in a o heat . D s i i u t dev ls wh rr and spin , D o f azzle rock and sand, B a n d urnt bush weary land . S hrilly the locusts din .

In the dry river bed T rek oxen , white and red, S ’ tand neath the brazen noon . D rip, drips the water bag , On a bald kopje crag B arks a hoarse Old baboon .

Panting the dogs are laid On o f purple webs shade . s Listless the ponie browse, With dreams o f far snows One dazzling cloud hangs In hs black mimosa boug .

Ro Old Zambesi a d .

66 VAGAROND VE RSE S

A ME MORY IN TI ME OF DROUGHT.

A wailing wind that plays Aeolian lays Along the postal wires Dun l packs Of swol en cloud, Storm -herded mists that shroud ’ The day s last fires . Wind- crouched bes ide the track M oan withered hawthorn trees , Like witches Old and black To think o f these

The west a yellow slit , Great raindrops spit An d hiss where puddles be, O i N h nt of moon or star, But wind - bo rne from afar

The drums at sea . M - w y hat brim blo s and drips ,

Wet cloth clings at my knees , Chill raindrops thrill my To think o f these A ME MORY IN TIME OF DROUGHT 67

The wet road winding still B y dip and hill , A point Of orange light The harbour light at last I Wh at count the long miles past ‘ What reeks a dirty night 7

When waits a bracken blaze, B o f rown ale, and hunks cheese, A cha ir in which to laze To dream o f these 68 VAGABOND VE RSE S

THE D MEN OL .

Old We are men, very Old, f Our bones are sti f and cold ,

Life miserably lingers . h as We crawl from out the y , An d n crouch arou d the fires, r o ur Wa ming shaking fingers .

With years and sorrows fuddled, In a l bald k rosses hudd ed,

We waste here in the sun , W hile the kids frisk in the kraals , An d alon g the dagga walls run The lizards .

a - Heads nod and blind eyes leaking, n Drowsing, coughi g, never speaking, B owed upon withered thighs . Yet once we looted women, slaves and cattle, Shouted Gee Gwaza made the bull - shields

rattle , S o f wept , a dark wave impis , to red battle

Stabbing wet assegais .

M a tabelelan d . NOCTURNE

NE NOCTUR .

The red flame flowers bloom and die ,

The embers puff a golden Spark . ’ NOW and again a horse s eye

Shines like a topaz in the dark .

A prowling jackal jars the hush,

The drowsy oxen Chump and sigh . The ghost moon lifts above the bush

An d creeps across the starry sky .

Lo w C in the north the ross is bright , An d un defiled sleep comes dreamless , ,

Here in the blue and silver night ,

I - f n the Star Chamber o the Wild .

’ ma o n tr K ha s C u y . S B LIBRARY

9 9 004

P ted b W . H m ith o n rin y . S 8: S .

T he Arden Press .

S t a m fo rd S t reet , S E .