The Rapid. St. Lawrence.

        All peacefully gliding,
        The waters dividing,
The indolent bátteau moved slowly along,
        The rowers, light-hearted,
        From sorrow long parted,
Beguiled the dull moments with laughter and song:
    "Hurrah for the Rapid! that merrily, merrily
    Gambols and leaps on its tortuous way;
    Soon we will enter it, cheerily, cheerily,
    Pleased with its freshness, and wet with its spray."

        More swiftly careering,
        The wild Rapid nearing,
They dash down the stream like a terrified steed;
        The surges delight them,
        No terrors affright them,
Their voices keep pace with their quickening speed:
    "Hurrah for the Rapid! that merrily, merrily
    Shivers its arrows against us in play;
    Now we have entered it, cheerily, cheerily,
    Our spirits as light as its feathery spray."

        Fast downward they're dashing,
        Each fearless eye flashing,
Though danger awaits them on every side;
        Yon rock - see it frowning!
        They strike - they are drowning!
But downward they speed with the merciless tide;

    No voice cheers the Rapid, that angrily, angrily
    Shivers their bark in its maddening play;
    Gaily they entered it - heedlessly recklessly,
    Mingling their lives with its treacherous spray!

Charles Sangster

Charles Sangster was a Canadian poet born on July 16, 1822, in Kingston, Ontario. Sangster is considered one of Canada's first poets of significance, and his work often reflects the Canadian wilderness and nationalist themes. Known for his collections "The St. Lawrence and the Saguenay" and "Hesperus and Other Poems and Lyrics," Sangster's poetry demonstrates a deep connection to Canadian landscapes and identity. He died on December 9, 1893. His contributions helped lay the foundation for future Canadian literature.

Charles Sangster

Song - Love While You May.

Charles Sangster, Simple Poetry

The Mystery.

Charles Sangster, Simple Poetry

The Falls Of The Chaudière, Ottawa.

Charles Sangster, Simple Poetry

Autumn.

Charles Sangster, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

The Snows. Upper Ottawa.

Over the snows,
Buoyantly goes
The lumberers' bark canoe;
Lightly they sweep,
Wilder each leap,
Bending the white caps through.
Away! away!
With the speed of a startled deer,
While the steersman true,
And his laughing crew,
Sing of their wild career:

"Mariners glide
Far o'er the tide,
In ships that are staunch and strong;
Safely as they,
Speed we away,
Waking the woods with song."
Away! away!
With the flight of a startled deer,
While the laughing crew
Of the swift canoe
Sing of the raftsmen's cheer:

"Through forest and brake,
O'er rapid and lake,
We're sport for the sun and rain;
Free as the child
Of the Arab wild,
Hardened to toil and pain.

Away! away!
With the speed of a start...

Charles Sangster

River Rhymes

1.

We have poled our staunch canoe
Many a boiling torrent through;
Paddling where the eddies drew,
Athwart the roaring flood we flew.

Chorus
Dip your paddles! make them leap,
Where the clear cold waters sweep.
Dip your paddles! steady keep,
Where breaks the rapid down the steep.

2.

Where the wind, like censer, flings
Smoke-spray wider as it swings,
Hark! the aisle of rainbow rings
To falls that hymn the King of kings.

3.

Lifting there our vessel tight,
Climbed we bank and rocky height,
Bore her through thick woods, where light
Fell dappling those green haunts of Night.

4.

O'er the rush of billows hurled,
Where they tossed and leaped and curled,
Past each wave-worn boulder whirle...

John Campbell

Floating Down The River.

My little bark glides steadily along,
    Still and unshaken as a summer dream;
    And never falls the oar into the stream,
For 'tis but morning, and the current strong;
    So let the ripples bear me as they will;
Sweet, sweet is Life, and every sound is song;
    Sorrow lies sleeping, and Joy sends me still
            Swift floating down the River.

Bright shines the sun athwart the linden-trees;
    One little cloud alone steals o'er the sky,
    As o'er the widening stream below steal I,
Fann'd by the same faint perfume-laden breeze;
    Bird-music answers sweetly through the air,
The unheard warbling of heart melodies;
    Thus go I dreaming, free from faintest care,
            Swift floating down the River.

Pure lie the broad-leaved lilies ...

Walter R. Cassels

Water-Party On Beaulieu River, In The New Forest

    I thought 'twas a toy of the fancy, a dream
    That leads with illusion the senses astray,
    And I sighed with delight as we stole down the stream,
    While the sun, as he smiled on our sail, seemed to say,
    Rejoice in my light, ere it fade fast away!

    We left the loud rocking of ocean behind,
    And stealing along the clear current serene,
    The Phædria^[1] spread her white sails to the wind,
    And they who divided had many a day been,
    Gazed with added delight on the charms of the scene.

    Each bosom one spirit of peace seemed to feel;
    We heard not the tossing, the stir, and the roar
    Of the ocean without; we heard only the keel,
    The keel that went whispering along the green shore,
    And the stroke, as it dipp...

William Lisle Bowles

A Little Bit Of Blue

When the waves rise high and higher as they toss about together,
And the March-winds, loosed and angry, cut your chilly heart in two,
Here are eighteen gallant gentlemen who come to face the weather
All for valour and for honour and a little bit of blue!

    Chorus.
    Oh get hold of it and shove it!
    It is labour, but you love it;
    Let your stroke be long and mighty; keep your body on the swing;
    While your pulses dance a measure
    Full of pride and full of pleasure.
    And the boat flies free and joyous like a swallow on the wing.

Isis blessed her noble youngsters as they left her; Father Camus
Sped his youths to fame and Putney from his grey and ancient Courts: -
"Keep," they said, "the old traditions, and we know you will not shame us

R. C. Lehmann

The Forest River.

Amid the forest verdant shade,
        A peaceful river flowed:
Wild flowers their home on its banks had made,
The sunbeam's rays on its breast were laid,
        When the light of morning glowed.

By its marge the wolf had found a lair,
        He roamed through each lonely spot;
That deep designer, the beaver, there
Built his palace; the shaggy bear
        In the tall tree had his cot.

And voices sweet were heard on the bank
        Of the river's gentle flow;
The whip-poor-will sang when the sun had sank,
And the hum-drum bee to his home had shrank,
        When the wind of eve did blow.

The tree-frog joined with his sonorous call,
        The grasshopper chirped along,
The dormice came out of their underground hole,
The squirrel...

Harriet Annie Wilkins