"0cbabf27-e2cd-4b03-9bb6-f7b5a34bf044"@en . "CONTENTdm"@en . "http://resolve.library.ubc.ca/cgi-bin/catsearch?bid=1552318"@en . "British Columbia Historical Books Collection"@en . "Warren, G. B."@en . "2017-05-24"@en . "1919"@en . "\"Includes: A raid on the seal rookeries.
Fiction. \"A raid on the seal rookeries\" relates the manner in which Captain Hansen on his schooner 'Adele' captured seals in the area of Pribilof Island. The 'Adele,' an actual ship, was totally wrecked off the Queen Charlotte Islands on 8 April 1891. The account of the foundering and details of the ship are recorded in the Victoria Colonist 13 May 1891, page 3.\" -- Lowther, B. J., & Laing, M. (1968). A bibliography of British Columbia: Laying the foundations, 1849-1899. Victoria, BC: University of Victoria, p. 180."@en . ""@en . "https://open.library.ubc.ca/collections/bcbooks/items/1.0347556/source.json"@en . "45 pages : illustration ; 19 cm"@en . "application/pdf"@en . " . '\nCopyright Canada, 1919\nBy G. B. Warren \u00C2\u00A9flnfor Saybreak on lounftanj lag\nA skyline bold and clear\nOf cold sharp corniced snow,\nWhere, bulking huge, the mass of Baker's cone\nShadows the world below.\n'Tis bright with promise now!\nThat flood and field\nStill shrouded in the mystery of night,\nWill shortly be revealed.\nThe wildfowl on the bay\nCall to the distant flight\nOf ducks, that swoop from out the realms of space,\nSeeking a place to light.\nSounds through the waking hours\nThe beating of countless wings,\nFaint voices floating through the upper air\nIn softest whisperings.\nA blush of coming day\nFlooding the eastern sky,\nFresh rosy Dawn climbing the rampart hills,\nForces the night to fly:\nThen from his lair the sun\nLeaps forth. The fading gleam\nOf silver moon and silent stars is quenched.\nDay reigns once more supreme. \u00C2\u00A9tji> ffiaat KrtU\nAlpinist\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nExcelsior, there's nought we may not dare 1\nWhy, now, confess defeat, when plain in sight\nLooms the stern peak \u00E2\u0080\u0094 to which we've toiled\nand fought\nUp many a mountain gorge and soaring height?\nIt were a shame if we should now go back\nAnd, leaving all we've won, retrace our track.\nUndaunted by the circling mists we camped,\nLaid siege; while hail and snow went storming\nAssaulted through the brilliant mists; that\nwrapped\nA veil, impenetrable to the eye,\nAround the wastes of ice, the snowfields bare\nAnd craggy peaks that pierce the upper air.\nWe scorned to own defeat, when lost to sight,\n'Mid cloud and snowstorm, was that summit\ncold;\nBut started out the morn e're yet the sun\nThe highest cornices had edged with gold.\nSee now! the noonday glare reveals our fate\nAbove a rampart white and sharp arete.\nGuide-\nCrevasses open-mouthed have reft the face\nOf brightly gleaming ice, that upward led.\nTheir clear green depths a gap impassable\npresent\nAcross the glacier slope ahead;\njiii Save on yon steep and scintillating slope\nWhich promises success to axe and rope.\nAlpinist\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nRoped man to man we'll scale the giddy height:\nStep after step cut up those slopes of snow\nThat, gleaming spotless in the noonday light,\nCurve out of sight above and far below.\nWhat rumbled? (G.) From yon distant cliff\nwas hurled\nAn avalanche which shakes this snowy world.\nGuide-\nThe rocks I've gained through chimneys rough\nand steep\nThat crumble at a careless touch, and send\nA rattling train of rubble bounding down\nThe icy slopes, which great crevasses rend.\nRe-entrant over here the mountain dips\nInto a gulf, which eddying mists eclipse.\nPerched on this tottering and steep arete,\nOne hardly dares to even whisper low;\nLest, crashing from their crumbling pedestals,\nThe rotten crags through empty space will go\nTwo thousand feet down, where the hard neve\nIs packed by ice that avalanched that way.\nI'll anchor fast, and hold the rope, that you\nBy hand and foot and alpenstock may scale.\nA traverse of the skyline rocks we'll make\nAnd yon last gleaming slope of snow assail.\nIt leads up to a virgin mountain's head,\nOn which our feet will be the first to tread. The highest of a glacier covered range,\nIts proud and lofty crest at length hath bowed\nBefore the bold attack of alpinists\nUndaunted by the steeps or storm or cloud;\nAnd all the dangers that in grim array\nThe spirit of the mountain brought to play.\n10 What strange emotions fill my breast!\nWhat flitting shadows of unrest\nSweep o'er me as I stand beside\nThe Rocky Mountains' \"Great Divide.\"\nThat rustic arch, with letters bold\nAgainst the summit snowfields cold,\nHas power to wing my fancy far\nTo this split streamlet's furthest bar.\nThe icy flood is cleft in twain,\nIts waters never meet again;\nFar east and to the furthest west\nThose wavelets hurry without rest.\nThe mind can hardly grasp such vast\nExtent of territory passed\nE're these two streams shall reach the sea,\nAt different oceans to be free.\nThrough valleys wide and fertile plain,\nWhere yellow fields of waving grain\nAre garnered for the wide world's store,\nOne stream flows to a distant shore.\nMay be that harnessed it will drive\nThe wheels which in some human hive\nOf industry are waiting for\nThe power that it holds in store\n*A watershed of the Rockies\u00E2\u0080\u0094a stream passing beneath an arch on\nthe summit is divided, one part being directed eastward and the\nother westward.\n11 To saw the timber, thresh the grain\nAnd even haul the loaded train\nBy energy electrical\nAs though some wizard wove a spell.\nSuch small beginnings mark this stream,\nIt almost seems to be a dream\nThat carries me in mind away\nAlong its course to Hudson's Bay.\nFar down the other branch we roam\nBy smiling lakes, and watch the foam\nOf rapid streams that flow between\nFair orchard lands and meadows green.\nThe silv'ry salmon leaps the falls;\nAnd everywhere insistent calls\nArise from forest, stream and hill,\nTo charm the sense or test the skill.\nOft times by restlessness oppressed,\nI long to see that lonely crest;\nAnd once again to dream beside\nThe arch, that's lettered \"Great Divide.\" That the clouds which gloomed below\nWere seas of light\nFrom another point of view\nAt greater height.\n14 Mttttf r BvatBtt Ut % (HuBtuht JUang*\nPicture a world of snowfields\nAglow in the sunset light,\nGreat fir trees snow-flake laden\nAnd broken clouds piled white;\nWhile bathed in a silver sheen\nThe pines on a crest are seen.\nWould I could frame the language\nWorthy those sunset tints,\nHued from saffron to coral,\nAflame where the sunlight glints;\nAnd the clear steel blue of the sky \u00E2\u0080\u00A2\nWhere the clouds had drifted by.\nThe daylight slowly faded.\nWeakly mere words convey\nThe ivory white of snowflakes,\nDecking the hills that day;\nAnd the softening yellow tone\nThat fell from the sun god's throne.\nFar beyond wooded ridges\nLit with a twilight ray,\nSentinel like in the cloudland\nA nameless peak held sway;\nKeeping a silent guard\nO'er valleys by cloud wreaths barred.\n'Twas crowned with flaming colours\nOf sunset's fleeting hour ;\n15 Giving its best expression\nTo nature's lavish dower\nE're the ebbing tide of day\nShould fade from the world away.\nThen light melted softly to shadow\nAnd the blue of the sky turned grey,\nWhile a veil of deepening twilight\nWarned us to haste away,\nFor the winter nights are bleak\nIn the wilds by that lonely peak. *I_huV the \u00C2\u00A9ratall\nI mused one day beside the Ocstall River\nWhere trailing mists went drifting softly by;\nAnd waterfalls in thunderous voices calling,\nTheir vaporous breath raised to a burdened sky.\nWhat mystic spell ? what strange compelling passion\nDid hold the sons of Britain toiling there?\nWhat charm was there in that great lonely region\ni Enticing them from distant lands, more fair ?\nFantastic cloud wreaths draped a sea of mountains:\nForest and muskeg in the vales held sway;\nTo win a fortune from those wild surroundings\nMen came, then could not from them break away.\nThey tried the lands where everlasting sunshine\nCaressed lush fruits and kissed the waves at play;\nBut no place gripped them like this western outpost\nWhere men with large ambitions hewed their way.\nIt was the challenge to the daring spirit\nOf vast resources in their native state.\nIt was the lure of gold, romance of action,\nThe chances of success where stakes were great.\n\u00E2\u0080\u00A2Ocstall River\u00E2\u0080\u0094a tributary of the Skeena near its mouth.\n17 'Twas out upon a gold stampede,\nAnd Jan had always planned to lead.\nThe man who has the greatest might,\nHe surely must be in the right,\nWas part of Jansen's creed;\nFor very skookum* was this man,\nBuilt on a most ambitious plan;\nBut with a domineering trait,\nWould have his own, no other way;\nAnd often had been heard to say:\n\"I'll be no 'also ran.'\"\nThe river trip he hoped to make\nWith an old-timer nicknamed Jake,\nWho'd hired a canoe;\nAnd with a bunch of sourdoughsf\nIntended, e're the river rose\nIn flood, to push on through.\nThis man soon got himself disliked\nAs up the rapid stream they piked\nAnd oft by rapids lined.\nHis overbearing ways were met\nWith keen expressions of regret\nHe'd not been left behind.\nAt length the crew a village saw\nOf Indians who had a store\nIn goods where Jan did trade.\nThe others knew their chance at last\nThey could not get away too fast\nWhen off ashore he'd strayed.\n\u00E2\u0099\u00A6Skookum\u00E2\u0080\u0094a Chinook word, meaning strong.\ntSourdough\u00E2\u0080\u0094a seasoned prospector. They threw his pack out on the bank,\nTheir late companion's health they drank\nWith hopes they'd never meet;\nBut Jan, their move when he realized,\nCame hurrying greatly surprised,\nAnd flushed with angry heat.\nSome most profane remarks he made\nAnd said that he was not afraid\nTo thrash the blooming crew.\nTheir ancestors were not forgot,\nHe hoped old Nick would make it hot\nFor any that he knew.\nOne parting curse did Jan call down,\nHe hoped they all would surely drown\nBefore they reached their goal;\nThe waters be their winding sheet,\nThat Hell would raise a double heat\nTo welcome every soul.\nThen taking up his pack he set\nHis face towards the trail that yet\nAlong the river ran.\nBut soon the blazes were no more,\nHis path was barred by creeks, a score,\nWhich now no bridges span.\nHe felled the towering cottonwood,\nThat graceful by the river stood,\nTo bridge each torrent wide.\nBut longest spans were swept away,\nBy the wild waters in their play\nAt the last creek he tried.\nSo plunging in the torrent wild\nWhich swept him helpless as a child,\nHe braved its swollen tide. E*.\nWhile raced along a branch he caught,\nThat, waving from the shore long sought,\nWas like an arm outstretched.\nHe pulled himself hand over hand\nUntil his feet could feel the sand\nBy eddying currents fetched.\nHis pack was soaked with water through,\nThere was no trail ahead he knew,\nBut still kept on his way;\nAnd with determination strong\nStruggled the beach and cliffs along\nWhile held the light each day.\nAt length he reached the little creek,\nThe which he had set out to seek,\nAnd found some partners there.\nThey had begun to pan the sand\nWhich proved to be a golden strand\nAt last to them laid bare.\nOne day in camp the word went round\nThat Jake and all his crew had drowned\nBetween the canyon walls.\nTheir staunch canoe was seen upturned\nWhere white the boiling rapids churned\nBelow the waterfalls.\nSmall wonder if Jan's conscience woke\nAnd if that moral guardian spoke\nIn accusation strong\nAgainst the words he had let fall,\nBeyond the power of recall,\nTo get revenge for wrong\".\n20 \u00C2\u00AEI|i> g>urunj (&aak\nDeep in the Sunset Valley\n111 fortune had detained;\nBacon and beans were finished;\nOf flour, none remained.\nBut now with tents and blankets,\nFacing the backward track,\nAll hands were feeling cheerful\nSave the cook\u00E2\u0080\u0094his looks were black.\nThey'd packed across the mountains\nWhere trails were never known,\nThrough leagues of heavy timber\nAnd rock slides overgrown;\nHad bridged the swollen torrents\nBy felling trees across;\nAnd scrambled through the canyons\nThat walled the river's course.\nThe horses of the pack train\nHad died in dark despair\nWhen brought to face the prospect\nOf using goat trails there;\nSo man a beast of burden\nHimself was forced to be;\nThe crew packed grub and blankets\nAnd the cook the cutlery,\n21 .\nThe dishpans and the kettles,\nThe basins and a pot,\nA battered old reflector,\nCups, bowls and plates, Great Scott!\nCymbals and drums weren't in it\nWhen cook did have a spill;\nThe crash of warlike music\nEchoed from hill to hill\nAs down his pack carrie bounding,\nSpurning the canyon walls,\nScattering pots and dishes,\nLeaping the waterfalls.\nThe packers looked in terror\nTo see the cook come too\nAs past their dizzy erie\nThe clanging luggage flew;\nWhen anxiously they hailed him,\nThe cook, he only swore:\n\"If I survive this picnic\nSo help me\u00E2\u0080\u0094nevermore.\" A Sati} nit tlje \u00C2\u00A7>tnl %aaknit&\nThe tale was told by a hunter bold\nOf a sealing schooner's crew,\nOf a midnight raid where the breakers played\nOn reefs that the offing strew.\n\"In Behring Sea they tell,\" said he,\n\"How Hansen, in the Adele,'\nWaiting for night, with never a light,\nDared the reefs and ocean swell.\n\"A rascal bold, in misdeeds grown old,\nHe had raided far and wide;\nBut never before in the sealers' lore\nHad the Pribilof* reefs been tried.\n\"But an Aleutf, by his sealskin boot\nAnd the grave of his father, swore\nFor a keg of booze and a pair of shoes\nTo sell their secret, and more.\n\"So Hansen knew to a yard or two\nWhere the hidden ledges ran;\nAnd the breakers' roar on the reefs and shore\nWere guides to the daring man.\n\"The trailing kelp and a flash might help\nWhere the phosphorus burned bright,\nFor the deed was done past set of sun\nWhen the stars were hid from sight.\n\u00E2\u0099\u00A6Pribilofs\u00E2\u0080\u0094a group of islands in Behring Sea, where the fur seal\nbreeds.\nfAleut\u00E2\u0080\u0094a native of the Aleutian Islands.\n23 \"The schooner's kedge to a rocky ledge,\nBy a hempen cable tied,\nWith silent stealth, for the raiders' health,\nWas lowered overside.\n\"Then with muffled oars they reached the shores\nNear a crowded rookery;\nWhere the voice of seals, in loud appeals,\nDrowned the moan of wind and sea.\n\"There were clubbed ten score and some dozens more\nOf the seals which in panic came\nLike frightened sheep before the sweep\nOf the raiders' far-flung chain;\n\"For they took their stand, where the rocky land\nSlopes down to the surf-worn beach,\nTo intercept the herd that swept\nLike a torrent, the sea to reach.\n\"Their dories lay in a tiny bay\nOn a bit of sandy shore;\nAnd they loaded seals by heads or heels\nTill the boats would hold no more.\n\"On many a trip to the little ship\nThe skiffs went back and fore,\nTill she streamed with blood in a crimson flood\nFrom the deck to the cabin door.\n\"The seals were piled in confusion wild\nOn deck, by a seaman there;\nWhile the hold was stored and the cabin floored\nWhenever he'd time to spare, \u00C2\u00AE!j\u00C2\u00A3 (Eoaat nf \u00C2\u00AEnttai| (Eolmnbia\nOn the far stretching coast of B. C,\nWhere the hills and the seas interlace,\nIs a cruising ground yet unexcelled,\nWhere the yachtsman can loiter or race.\nAnd for those that of danger a spice\nOr variety's pleasures would know,\nThere's a limitless sea to the west\nWhere the free ocean breezes do blow.\nThere are harbours and fiords on a coast\nThat is thousands of miles in extent;\nAnd new scenes that its windings unfold\nFill those that explore with content. Hannwtrer\nVancouver, Vancouver,\nVancouver we'll sing all the way.\nFar away we may roam, but Vancouver's our home\nWe remember, wherever we stray.\nVancouver, Vancouver,\nIn summer time all the day long\nTo sea we will roam, for afloat we're at home\nSo we sway on our halyards with song,\nVancouver, Vancouver,\nThe open gateway of the West.\nHer harbour's the port where vessels resort\nOf pleasure or profit in quest.\nVancouver, Vancouver,\nHer mountains a wonderland hold,\nWhere the Lions on guard, carved in rock grey and\nhard,\nHave stood sentry for ages untold.\nVancouver, Vancouver,\nOf seamen intrepid we'll sing:\nVancouver and Cook, great explorers, who took\nPossession in name of their king.\n27 Iffinria, $.<_L\nBud of England grafted\nOn a western tree,\nFavoured by the breezes\nOf a temperate sea.\nRoses in the gardens\nGreet thy Christmastide,\nBroom upon the headlands\nGilds the ocean side.\nIn thy dreamy moments\nThou didst plan to be\nQueen upon the islands\nBy the western sea.\n28 Pan Ufa\nUtrgmta\nSPRING\nPHANTASY\nCast\nKelpies\nPaolo\nFrosties\nVirginia\nFairies\nCupid\nSCENE I.\nSeashore at the Mouth of a Creek\nPaolo\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nHeart free, care free and free to roam am I\nWherever fancy leads beneath the sky.\nI'll rest awhile and watch the kelpies play,\nThey will be sporting on the sands to-day.\nPerhaps they'll tell me what my heart desires\nTo know, and Cupid's dart inspires.\nKelpies come up from the sea and sing in chorus:\nJoin with us, dance with us, prance with us\nOver the sea.\nRoam with us, flee with us, be with us\nWhere we may be\nSing with us, walk with us, talk with us\nCarelessly gay.\nCome with us, play with us, stray with us\nWhere we may stray.\n29 Paolo\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nPray, kelpies, tell me what you find of joy,\nIn what of work or play your hours employ.\nKelpies' Chorus\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nYou can sing of the lakes and mountains\nAnd the freedom of open plains;\nBut for spaces wide and untrammelled\nThe ocean alone remains.\nIn the cradle of ocean surges\nWe rock to heart's content.\nWe've played on countless beaches\nAnd roam the sea's extent.\n1st Kelpie\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nThe sights that we view on our travels\nAre marvels that fill with delight;\nBut chief is the phosphorescence\nOf the foaming seas, at night.\nPaolo\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nI wish you would tell of those flashes\nThat are such a wonderful sight.\nPhosphorescence\n1st Kelpie\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nSparkling and darkling, dust of the milky way,\nShifting and drifting, firefly legions at play;\nFading and glowing, lights of a starry maze,\nComing and going, drift of a luminous haze.\nTangling and spangling the waves with a wealth\nof light,\nSpraying and straying silently through the\nnight;\n30 Dusting and flashing a light in our yeasty wake,\nGlowing and splashing wherever the waves we\nbreak.\nLacing and tracing the path of the evening\nbreeze,\nBlazing and raising a light on the breaking seas;\nEbbing and flowing, an ocean of liquid light,\nFinding and showing the reefs in the blackest\nnight.\nPaolo\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nThere's much in what you say appeals to me;\nWhat else may you have learned along the\nmargin of the sea?\n1st Kelpie\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nThere is a cove, secret from passing eyes,\nBeautiful as a dream of Paradise;\nWhere, sheltered from the stormy waves that\nstray\nUnfettered down the sea's wide open way,\nThe seaman oftentimes doth moor his barque\nIn shaded bays, peaceful by day or dark.\nFor there the salty tide finds calm repose,\nSheltered from every boisterous wind that\nblows;\nAnd ripples, like faint shadows on a glass,\nPlay lightly where the fitful breezes pass.\nElsewhere the mirrored shores inverted stand,\nTrees foot to foot, hand clasping hand;\nAnd all the flitting clouds their faces see,\nTill sea and sky seem one in harmony.\n31 In that well guarded spot few sounds intrude\nTo mar the quiet of its solitude.\nThe beat of surges at the entrance seems\nA distant murmur from the land of dreams;\nWhile crickets chirruping and song birds gay,\nFrom valley and from hillside sound their lay.\nFour miles of coastline do those arms surround\nOf cliff and delta, wood and open ground;\nWhere stately fir and cedar trees are seen\nIn contrast with the lighter shades of green;\nWhile on the rocks thick moss and lichen grow,\nAnd rough arbutus shrubs their shadows throw.\nWhen sunset edges all the clouds with gold,\nAnd sea and shore with jewelled wealth untold,\nThose wcky cliffs a fitting setting form\nTo hold that gem of ocean (safe in storm) ;\nAnd changing lights, warm and elusive, wear\nTo match the shading of the sea and air.\nA maid lives there, who often roams this way;\nWe're here to greet her when she comes to-day.\n(Enter Virginia.)\nKelpies\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nVirginia, come and play with us awhile;\nCome, be our queen and on our revels smile.\nOr if we may but help you o'er the stream,\nOur labours shall a moment's frolic seem.\nVirginia\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nKelpies, too long you've roamed on mischief\nbent:\nToo long you've made the sky your nightly tent. I've oft been warned to shun your careless way\nAnd from your pranks and revels warned to\nstay.\nI dare not try to cross the swollen tide\nUnless some stronger arm is close beside.\n(Paolo approaches)\nPermit my arm to be this guide and stay:\nPray give me leave to help you on your way.\nVirginia\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nKind sir, if you will take me by the hand,\nI'll thank you to assist to that far strand.\nNo\u00E2\u0080\u0094Don't you lift me up\u00E2\u0080\u0094I didn't mean\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nWell\u00E2\u0080\u0094If you must\u00E2\u0080\u0094\n(Carried over)\nHow strong your arms have been.\nPaolo\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nVirginia, did I hear the kelpies say?\nYes, that's my name. What is your own, I pray?\nCall me Paolo, and if I may be\nOf any further help fair maid to thee,\nAllow me to attend you on your way.\nVirginia\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nThank you, I need no further help to-day.\n(Exit Virginia.)\nKelpies\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nJoin with us, dance with us, prance with us\nOver the sea.\nRoam with us, flee with us, be with us\nWhere we may be.\n33 I'm in no mood to join your frolics now;\nPerhaps some other day you'll show me how\nYou ride the combers on the ocean swell.\nI must be going now, Kelpies farewell.\nSCENE II.\nWinter Landscape\nPaolo wandering disconsolate on snowshoes\u00E2\u0080\u0094Frosties bobbing\nup and down behind bushes and snowdrifts.\nPaok>\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nWhat goblins, what strange forms are these I\nsee?\nI thought the haunts of men and sprites to flee\nAnd far from every human habitation\nFind solace for my grief mid desolation.\nStand forth yon elf and speak, that I may know\nThese are no tricks that on my fancies grow.\nFrosties all dance out on the snow\u00E2\u0080\u0094Master Frosty steps forward with greeting:\nI'm the master of the Frosties' band,\nOn outpost duty from the Arctic land;\nYou need not fear,\n'Tis friends are here.\nYour lonely sorrow we can understand,\nAnd would in sympathy just clasp your hand. If for your grief\nYou find relief\nIn telling us the cause of all your\nYour confidence we will respect, I\nAnd we'll be true\nAs skies are blue.\nPaolo\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nIt is a story of a winsome maid\nThat yester eve across my pathway strayed.\nThat I was shy I can't deny;\nBut if it will not weary you to hear,\nI'll try and tell you what I found so dear,\nWhen o'er a stream\nAs in a dream\nI helped Virginia to the further shore,\nAnd lost my heart to her for evermore.\nLast Night My Heart Was All Aglow\nThe mist with pearls had beaded\nEach wayward strand of hair;\nAnd the light in her eyes was like sunshine.\nWould I had asked her there!\nRefrain\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nLast night my heart was all aglow,\nI loved, I loved Virginia so;\nBut wintry dawn has brought despair\nOf ever winning maid so fair.\nFrosties' Chorus\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nLast night his heart was all aglow,\nLast night he loved Virginia so;\nBut wintry dawn has brought despair\nOf ever winning maid so fair. Paolo\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nAnd now when days seem dreary,\nAnd hope begins to wane,\nMy thoughts run back and I wonder\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nWill we ever meet again.\nEver my heart is yearning\nFor a voice that is far away:\nFor a smile that is bright and cheering\nAs sunshine and waves at play.\nEnter Cupid.\nPaolo i\nGood morrow, Cupid. (C.) I salute thee too.\nPaolo\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nWhat errand brings you out amid the snow?\nPerchance you've lost your way, rash Cupid.\n(C.) No.\nThe harbinger of spring to lovers true,\nI started out while yet the snowflakes flew.\nPaolo\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nYou're late I fear, my hopes have sunk too low.\nCupid\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nLet not your drooping spirits fail, faint heart\nDid never yet assume that valiant part\nThat finds a way in spite of what befall\nAnd wins at length to beauty's citadel.\nPaolc\nThanks, Cupid, for your words of lofty cheer;\nMy heart responds, I see my pathway clear.\nMy Darling\nI'll take Virginia in my arms and kiss her\nOn lips and cheek and brow;\n36 I'll tell her how I love her, miss her,\nAnd when, and why, and how.\nI'll draw my darling to my heart and hold her\nIn fond and close embrace;\nI'll whisper softly how I've longed to fold her\nIn all her girlish grace.\nI'll look into her eyes, their love light showing,\nSmall need of words we'll know;\nFor tender glances sprung from hearts aglow-\n.ing,\nWith meaning overflow.\nCupid\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nSuch sentiments as these I quite approve:\nI'm hopeful for the outcome of your love.\nCupid (turning to Frosties)\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nWho are these furry folk that round us stand?\nThey seem like members of the Frosties' band.\nFrOStieS (in Chorus)\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nWe are the elves of the Northern Light,\nOf the ice blink and the snow;\nWe deck the moss with a silver floss,\nAnd make the frost flowers grow.\nWe place the fetters on stream and rill\nAnd encase the lakes and seas:\nWe spread a carpet o'er vale and hill\nAnd drape the leafless trees.\n37 Won't you just tell dear Frosties\nIn the language of song to-night\nOf those beauties and silent wonders\nThat dwell in the Northern Light.\nSing of some thrilling vision\nOf those beams in endless train,\nLike the bars of a thousand searchlights;\nSing to us Frosties again.\nThe Northern Lights\nMaster Frosty\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nAcross the starry arches of the heavens\nLike mighty spokes of a revolving wheel;\nOr organ pipes that grouped in stately silence\nAwait some master's touch to wake their peal;\nThe Northern Lights had strayed far down the\nvistas\nOf mellow air that mark the temperate zone;\nTheir searchlight beams above the northern skyline\nA magic arch of changing lights had thrown.\nThey marched across the sky in long procession:\nFrom east to west their standards were unfurled,\nSummoning visions of the Arctic winter\nAnd whalers prisoned in a frozen world.\nThen formed a tent, across the starry heavens,\nWoven of interlacing beams of light\nFlung lightly o'er the arches which supported,\nHigh overhead, the canopy of night. Once more a wide and undulating archway\nExpressed in quivering jets of frosty flame,\nAgainst the background of the midnight shadows,\nWith play of countless brilliant flashes, came;\nWhile dark below flowed on the silent ocean:\nAn anchored barque swayed slowly on the swell.\nAnd here and there a phosphorescent glimmer\nShowed where the trailing seaweed rose and fell.\nCupid-\nI thank you, Frosties, for your song and story\nAbout the Northern Lights in all their glory;\nBut time is hasting on, I must be going.\nThe sun through lengthened days is warmly\nglowing.\nFarewell Paolo too: what shall I say\nWhen I shall meet your maiden on my way?\nPaolo-\nHaste, Cupid, haste: fly forth on rapid wing\nBearing your dainty bow and feathered darts;\nAnd with the graceful practise of your arts\nWhisper into my darling's ear, or sing\nThe sweetest messages that love can bring;\nAnd weave such tender dreams as spring imparts\nWhere youth and beauty know each others\nhearts\nAnd feel the thrill that from such joy can spring.\nSweet cherub, when you wing your arrow's\nflight,\nSpeed it away with thoughts of love from me;\n39 This errand suits me well, I'll not delay;\nBut to the land of flowers will wing my way.\nFarewell to Cupid\nWe are glad to have made your acquaintance\nAnd wish you had longer to stay;\nWe are glad, we must say, to have met you,\nAnd wish you good luck on your way.\nFarewell, my Cupid,\nLove speed you on your way.\nFarewell, dear Cupid,\nAnd au-revoir we'll say.\n'Tis the time of the northward migration\nAnd ahead of the birds we must fly\nTo where days are of endless duration;\nSo in chorus we bid you good-bye.\nFarewell, my Cupid,\nLove speed you on your way.\nFarewell, dear Cupid,\nAnd au-revoir we'll say.\n(All in chorus)\nFarewell to you, farewell to all, farewell to-day;\nPaolo, Cupid, Frosties each farewell must say.\n40 Virginia sitting on a bank of grass and spring flowers, with a\nband of fairies dancing around her in a ring.\nFairies (in Chorus)\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nSpring is coming, hear the humming\nOf the bumble bees;\nLife is waking, buds are breaking,\nLove is in the breeze.\nRefrain\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nFairies sing for the spring\nDraweth near;\nMirth and song now belong\nTo the year.\nBirdies wooing, ring doves cooing\nFrom each budding bough.\nAll things mating, no one waiting,\nLove is calling\" now.\nLarks are singing, swallows winging\nNorth, their rapid flight.\nWinter's ending, spring is sending\nWarmth and love and light.\nVirginia-\nWhat strange emotions fill this breast?\nWhat flitting shadows of unrest\nDisturb me so? I have not ceased to long and dream\nSince I was lifted o'er that stream\nBy Paolo.\nIn strong arms' clasp what can there be\nTo thrill the heart in fancy free\nAnd leave behind\nA joy that is akin to pain,\nA longing to be held again\nBy arms entwined?\nEnter Cupid during last words.\nCupid\t\nGood morning to you all, a fairy ring\nDelights my heart; I'll wait and hear you sing.\nVirginia\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nWe're glad you're back, you should avoid the\nsnows\nDear careless boy; some day you'll freeze your\ntoes.\nCupid fitting arrow to his bow-\nVirginia\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nNo, don't you shoot your arrow; 'tisn't fair!\nYou've learned too much already, spare oh spare\nMy heart from further pain you cruel boy;\nWhat balm have you for wounds that peace\ndestroy ?\nCupid\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nForbid the thought of Cupid causing pain ;\nNought else I seek but bringing joy again.\nI have a secret message to unfold\nTo you, the sweetest lover ever told.\n42 Cupid whispers his message\nVirginia-\nOh Cupid! (C.) How you blush, your burning\ncheek\nTells plainer still than even lips can speak\nOf tenderness for Paolo that glows\nWithin your heart, and now quite overflows.\nBlushing\nFairies\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nBlush of the early morning\nHeralds the coming day,\nHeralds the beam of sunshine\nChasing the dark away.\nRefrain\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nBlushing, blushing,\nRoses of deepest dye;\nFlushing, flushing\nRed as the sunlit sky.\nBlushes those cheeks suffusing,\nCupid's enchantments prove;\nProve that the little archer\nWhispers to you of love.\nEnter Paolo.\nFairies\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nPaolo here at last!\nWhere has he been in hiding?\nHe ought to be ashamed,\nBut we must not be chiding. I'm glad to find you all so bright and gay;\nPlease, fairies, sing before you run away.\nhours\nmorn will\nE're we can sip the dewdrops from the grass\nAnd glean the jewels from the lily's cup.\nThe sunbeams now are gathering them up.\nThen we must weave some garments for our\nqueen.\nNo lighter gossamer was ever seen\nThan spider web woven by fairy hands\nTo wear when dancing on the moonlit sands.\nSo now good-bye, we all must skip away;\n(We'll take dear Cupid with us, if we may,\nTo catch the butterflies and paint their wings.)\nWe wish you all the joy that springtime brings.\n(Fairies and Cupid Exit)\nJr aolo, turning to Virginia\u00E2\u0080\u0094\n'Tis thoughts of you have sped me on my way;\nVirginia, dear, I seek your hand to-day.\nPaolo, taking Virginia's hands, looks into her eyes.\nReflections\nPaolo-\nDeep in your eyes are glowing\nLights that are soft and true;\nWhile in their centre mirrored\nIs the love that I feel for you.\n44 Refrain-\nThough but reflections\nMirrored in loving eyes,\nSuch pretty fancies\nDeepen our glad surprise.\nLove lights so true and tender,\nFraming my picture there,\nRival in warmth and splendour\nFlashes from jewels rare.\nVirginia\u00E2\u0080\u0094\nMy love had wildly fluttered to be free,\nIt beat its wings against the prison bars;\nBut now I know it yearned but unto thee\nOf all beneath the sun and silent stars.\nIt sought with passion's ardency to reach\nSome haven wherein it could welcome rest;\nIt only needed Cupid's dart to teach,\nThe goal it sought for was within your breast.\n(Paolo encircles Virginia with his arm)\nLove's Confidence\nPaolo-\nYour lips, for kisses ripe,\nIn sweetest lines are laid;\nYou lift your face to mine\nUnblushing, unafraid.\nFor love has confidence\nAnd nought but love repays\nThe sweet confiding trust\nYour nestling touch conveys.\n45 19 19\nEVANS & HASTINGS, PRINTERS\nVANCOUVER. B.C. m "@en . "Other copies: http://www.worldcat.org/oclc/977080343"@en . "Pamphlets"@en . "PR9246.A2713 L2"@en . "I-1648"@en . "10.14288/1.0347556"@en . "English"@en . "Vancouver : University of British Columbia Library"@en . "Vancouver : Evans & Hastings"@en . "Images provided for research and reference use only. For permission to publish, copy, or otherwise distribute these images please contact\u00A0digital.initiatives@ubc.ca."@en . "Original Format: University of British Columbia. Library. Rare Books and Special Collections. PR9246.A2713 L2"@en . "The last West, and, Paolo's Virginia"@en . "Text"@en .