<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538385" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Autumn Days</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">In dreams of the night I hear the call<br>Of wild duck scudding across the lake,<br>In dreams I see the old convent wall,<br>Where Ottawa's waters surge and break.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But Hercule awakes me ere the sun<br>Has painted the eastern skies with gold.<br>Hercule! true knight of the rod and gun<br>As ever lived in the days of old.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Arise! tho' the moon hangs high above,<br>The sun will soon usher in the day,<br>And the southerly wind that sportsmen love<br>is blowing across St. Louis Bay.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The wind is moaning among the trees,<br>Along the shore where the shadows lie,<br>And faintly borne on the fresh'ning breeze<br>From yonder point comes the loon's wild cry.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Like diamonds flashing athwart the tide<br>The dancing moonbeams quiver and glow,<br>As out on the deep we swiftly glide<br>To our distant Mecca, Ile Perrot.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ile Perrot far to the southward lies,<br>Pointe Claire on the lee we leave behind,<br>And eager we gaze with longing eyes,<br>For faintest sign of the deadly 'blind'.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Past the point where Ottawa's current flows-<br>A league from St. Lawrence golden<br>sands-<br>Out in the bay where the wild grass grows<br>We mark the spot where our ambush stands.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We enter it just as crimson flush<br>Of morn illumines the hills with light,<br>And patiently wait the first mad rush<br>Of pinions soaring in airy flight.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A rustle of wings from over there,<br>Where all night long on watery bed<br>The flocks have slept - and the morning air<br>Rings with the messenger of lead.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Many a pilgrim from far away<br>Many a stranger from distant seas,<br>Is dying to-day on St. Louis Bay,<br>To requiem sung by the southern breeze.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And thus till the sound of the vesper bell<br>Comes stealing o'er Ottawa's dusky stream,<br>And the ancient light-house we know so well<br>Lights up the tide with its friendly gleam.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then up with the anchor and ply the oar,<br>For homeward again our course must bear,<br>Farewell to the 'blind' by Ile Perrot's shore,<br>And welcome the harbor of old Pointe Claire!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Henry+Drummond">William Henry Drummond</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538385" data-title="Autumn Days de William Henry Drummond" data-description="In dreams of the night I hear the call Of wild duck scudding across the lake, In dreams I see the old convent wall, Where Ottawa's waters surge and break. But Hercule awakes me ere the sun Has painted the eastern skies with gold. Hercule! true kn..."></div> </div> </div>

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