Acadiensis/Volume 1/Number 1/The Wizard of the World
The Wizard of the World.
(From the Newfoundland Magazine.)
(To R. K.)
Does he not touch our heart-strings, tho',
Gay and sad at his whim,
Now with the jest of the rifle-pits,
Now with a nation's hymn.
Gay and sad at his whim,
Now with the jest of the rifle-pits,
Now with a nation's hymn.
With his deep-sea song, and his banjo-song,
Does he not rouse us, tho',
Telling the world the things we feel
And the little things we know.
Does he not rouse us, tho',
Telling the world the things we feel
And the little things we know.
We hark to the Wizard, as we would hark
To our comrade mess-room sage:
We do not know we are holding a book
And turning over a page.
To our comrade mess-room sage:
We do not know we are holding a book
And turning over a page.
Camp fires flicker before our eyes:
The troop-ships come and go:
We smell the salt and the sun again
For he tells us the things we know.
The troop-ships come and go:
We smell the salt and the sun again
For he tells us the things we know.
He dips his pen, and clear I see
The track that the steamer sailed;
I remember the light that leads me sure
And the little lights that failed.
The track that the steamer sailed;
I remember the light that leads me sure
And the little lights that failed.
When the revel has died, as revels will,
And the wide dawn shimmers pale
I follow the road to Mandalay
And the white Canadian trail;
And the wide dawn shimmers pale
I follow the road to Mandalay
And the white Canadian trail;
And Passion, and Love, and Mirth go by
'Til the young dawn leaps to day,
For he has written, with blood for ink,
The things I have tried to say.
'Til the young dawn leaps to day,
For he has written, with blood for ink,
The things I have tried to say.