The Chronicles of the St. Lawrence

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Dawson Bros., 1878 - Saint Lawrence River - 380 pages

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Page 12 - THIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight, Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic, Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
Page 13 - This is the forest primeval; But where are the hearts that beneath it Leaped like the roe, When he hears in the woodland The voice of the huntsman?
Page 207 - SWEET MEMORY, wafted by thy gentle gale, Oft up the stream of Time I turn my sail, To view the fairy haunts of long-lost hours, Blest •with far greener shades, far fresher flowers.
Page 167 - Still stands the forest primeval ; but under the shade of its branches Dwells another race, with other customs and language. Only along the shore of the mournful and misty Atlantic Linger a few Acadian peasants, whose fathers from exile Wandered back to their native land to die in its bosom.
Page 24 - Two Voices are there; one is of the Sea, One of the Mountains; each a mighty Voice: In both from age to age Thou didst rejoice, They were thy chosen Music, Liberty!
Page 370 - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore ; There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep sea, and music in its roar : I love not man the less, but nature more...
Page 330 - Sutherland,' she will show two lights in the main topmast shrouds, one over the other. The men to lie quite silent, and when they are about to land, must not, upon any account, fire out of the boats : the officers of the navy are not to be interrupted in their part of the duty ; they will receive their orders from the officer appointed to superintend the whole, to whom they are answerable. Officers of artillery, and detachments of...
Page 73 - Yon shadowy bark hath been to that wreck, And the dim blue fire, that lights her deck, Doth play on as pale and livid a crew As ever yet drank the churchyard dew. To...
Page 233 - ... monotonous the frown of its great black walls of rock, that the tourist is sure to get impatient with its sullen dead reverse, till he feels almost an antipathy to its very name. The Saguenay seems to want painting, blowing up, or draining, — anything, in short, to alter its morose, quiet, eternal awe. Talk of Lethe or the Styx, — they must have been purling brooks compared with this savage river ; and a picnic on the banks of either would be preferable to one on the banks of the Saguenay.
Page 254 - Saguenay, was about one hundred miles north of where we stood. Looking on the map, I find that the first country on the north which bears a name is that part of Rupert's Land called East Main. This river, called after the holy Anne, flowing from such a direction, here...

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