By Quinte’s Side.
Dear comrades of a vanished past,
My childhood’s playmates, kind and true,
Who dwell on Quinte’s sunlit shore,
I give these songs to you.
Old Quinte sang them in my ears
Long years ago, when I was young,
I give them back in later years,
The songs that Quinte sung.
How often when a child I strayed
Dear Quinte’s peaceful shores along,
My heart and soul responding to
The music of her song.
The wild bird oft would hush its song
Whilst skimming by on outspread wing
And listen while old Quinte taught
Her poet child to sing.
And this the sum of all she taught,
As tranquilly she flowed along,
Through all these years I’ve not forgot,
“Live, suffer and be strong.”
Though but a child I understood,
Why Quinte sang that song to me,
And my young heart was hushed and soothed
By her sweet minstrelsy.
