From Down the River
A HALF-BREED, slim, and sallow of face,
Alphonse lies full length on his raft,
The hardy son of a hybrid race.
Lithe and long, with the Indian grace,
Versed in the varied Indian craft,
A half-breed, slim, and sallow of face,
He nurses within mad currents that chase–
The swift, the sluggish-a foreign graft,
This hardy son of a hybrid race.
What southern airs, what snows embrace
Within his breast-soft airs that waft
The half-breed-slim, and sallow of face,
Far from the Gatineau’s foaming base!
And what strong potion hath he quaffed,
This hardy son of a hybrid race,
That upon this sun-baked blistered place
He sleeps, with his hand on the burning haft,
A Metis-slim and sallow of face,
The hardy son of a hybrid race!
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