Then WILLIAM saw, more clearly than before, His wondrous wisdom and His mighty power!

He felt G.o.d's goodness in both storm and calm, And sense of this was to his soul like balm.

Now they approach the Banks of Newfoundland, And densest fog prevails on every hand.

More danger does beset them than before, For they might be by larger ships run o'er.

Strict watch is kept, and lights hung out with care, That they may not be taken unaware.

Small sail is carried till the sky be clear; Yet onward, in their proper course, they steer.

Icebergs are seen; and now the welcome cry Of "Land O's" heard from off the top-mast high!

All eyes are strained to catch the joyful sight, And Newfoundland is hailed with true delight!

Now soon a smart-built ship is near at hand-- A splendid craft! just come from Yankee land.

How gracefully she bounces o'er the wave, Which seems desirous her fair form to have!

A speaking distance very soon she gains, And "Ship-a-hoy!" is heard in loudest strains.

Salute thus courteous is by each addressed, And questions put--in seaman's phrase expressed.

This done, away the gallant ship has sped, Like some fair phantom which we do not dread!

Saint Lawrence Gulf they very swiftly cross, And reach the River without harm or loss; Then enter south of Anticosti's Isle, While each glad face is beaming with a smile.

COOPER had read of this majestic stream; Of half its beauties he could never dream!

A pilot taken, blest with proper breeze, They soon are carried past fine groves of trees.

Sweet islands spring, like fairy scenes, to view, And each fresh turn presents them something new.

The pure green water tempts their thirsty souls, As forward in its course the river rolls!

Neat, painted houses on each hand are seen, And tin-clad spires say, "Here Religion's been!"

The Emigrants conceived that Nature wore A lovelier green upon Canadian sh.o.r.e Than they had ever seen in Spring before!

But this was all delusion, and the effect Of shipboard life, which they did not suspect.

Now they soon mark a ledge of rugged rock, Stretching near half across the river deep-- Fit place to give unwary ships a shock, And cause their crews in sad despair to weep.

Quite high and dry upon that rude Rock's crest A ship they spy; a total wreck it seems!

This vessel had old Ocean's billows pressed, And neared the Port--oft seen in sailor's dreams.

How came it there? Had they no Pilot ta'en?

Was he unskillful? No one could explain!

Then felt the Emigrants most truly glad That they a safe and pleasant voyage had.

At last they reach that well-known place, Gros Isle, And are obliged to anchor for a while.

For "Quarantine inspection" they prepare; The berths are cleansed, and decks are scrubbed with care.

And human beings who had lost all traces Of cleanliness, were made to scrub their faces!

This done; they muster in clean garments dressed, To meet the Doctor, at the Mate's behest.

No serious sickness to his eye appeared; Yet some for want of decency are jeered.

Permission to proceed they then obtain; The _He-ho-heave!'s_ sung out in jovial strain, And rests the anchor in its place again.

Ere this, some strange maneuvers on high land Gain our friends' notice, and they gazing stand.

Some men, at mast-like pole, to work are seen With different b.a.l.l.s, and what can it all mean?

WILLIAM inquires, and learns with much surprise, In this way they send news and get replies!

That now they're _telegraphing_ to Quebec-- The fine old city, seen just like a speck-- Of their good ship's arrival, safe and sound-- Her name--the people's number in her found.

Men dreamt not then how soon it would transpire That news, by lightning, could be sent through wire!

The fame of this, O Morse! to thee belongs, And thy great name does honor to my songs.

Long may'st thou live, and reap the just reward Of thy great labor, in good men's regard!

They reach Quebec, and anchor in due time Before its heights--so towering and sublime!

What views now meet their truly raptured sight-- All Nature's smiling in the evening light!

The falls of Montmorency, just below-- With all her foam, most like to driven snow, And ever-rising mist--proclaim aloud The Being and the Presence of her G.o.d!

What glorious Craft is that which now appears With graceful movement, as the ship she nears?

_"Canadian Eagle"_ steamship she is called; Like that great bird she seemed both proud and bald!

The Emigrants behold her with surprise, Quite sure such splendid sight ne'er met their eyes.

Ere long our eager friends are made to know That to the steamer they will have to go.

This pleases them, for the have prisoners been For six long weeks, and want a change of scene.

The sailors now are heard to swear and scold, As each one's luggage is drawn from the hold; The bustle great makes pa.s.sengers look round, Lest aught belonging them be missing found.

Our WILLIAM soon had need enough of this, As he their best large box just chanced to miss, And to the sailors spoke, who quick replied They had just sent it o'er the vessel's side.

To this their statement he denial gave, Which made the men with strongest anger rave.

He then, most speedily, went down below, And found the box quite safe enough, I trow!

He dragged it forth before their very eyes, And they thought best to feign complete surprise.

The box secured, they bid the ship Adieu, Then with great joy their journey soon renew.

By that conveyance they reach Montreal, Leave that by barges which had comfort small, And take the Ottawa, whose waters dark In pure St. Lawrence leave their dingy mark.

Up this dark river, and ca.n.a.l Rideau, They journey on, with speed at best but slow; Sometimes through swamps, of dread mosquitoes full; Now towed by Steamers, now by horses dull; In this way come to Kingston, on the Lake-- The great Ontario--and a Steamer take.

Upon their journey quickly they proceed, With much more comfort, and far greater speed.

Safely and soon they reach their destined place, To meet with friends and friendship's warm embrace.

Thankful to G.o.d for journeying mercies granted, They settle in a Village newly planted.

The friends they met with their warm love displayed By good advice and necessary aid, In trying to procure for them a farm, Where they might live, and have some comforts warm.

These with our friends were joined in Church connection, And none were backward to evince affection.

Young COOPER soon was pleased, as man could be, That three of them, whom we shall name as "C----,"

Would leave their homes and business cares awhile, To trudge with him, on foot, for many a mile, Through Summer's heat, and with most kind intention, For purposes of which I have made mention.

He at such times would gaze upon the trees, Whose lofty heads were bowing to the breeze, Till he could fancy them a band devout Engaged in worship, beyond any doubt.

Now he first heard those "soft and soul-like sounds"

From vast "pine groves," which seemed to have no bounds, Thrill his pure soul with their sweet melody, Till it awoke his own rude minstrelsy, And made him long near by to settle down In some small hut which he could call his own.

This wish, in part, ere long was gratified-- The father bought a farm, to which they hied.

'Twas six miles from the village, and a place Where much hard labor stared them in the face; And there they found that, having spent their money, It would not soon yield them much "milk and honey."

But yet it promised, from its rich, black soil, A full reward, in time, for cash and toil.

So, in good heart, without one "if," or "but,"

They set to work to fix a roofless hut.

This done, they placed their goods in ship-board style, With furniture dispensing for awhile.

Their boxes served quite well for chairs and table, And on the floor they slept--if they were able-- For dread mosquitoes, and the heat intense, Made good sound sleep be often banished thence.

Yet G.o.d's kind care kept all in health and spirits, And they found Industry had still its merits.

From day to day they did their axes seize, And labor hard in cutting down fine trees, Or cleaning up a _Fallow_ 'gainst the Fall-- For which their skill was truly very small.

Ere long they purchased a young, wild ox-team, Which had for months been wandering in the woods, Where they did not but eat, and drink, and dream, Like lords of all in those deep solitudes.

Our WILLIAM acted as the Teamster still, And did his test to train them to his will; Yet for a time they would not brook restraint, But ran to th' woods, on dangerous frolic bent.

Once, while at logging, our raw teamster fell, And the _nigh_ ox trod on his foot as well; He tried to rise, but found it was in vain, And thoughts of their mad tricks shot through his brain.

He gently touched them with his sapling goad, When they sprang sideways with their heavy load.

Quick as a lightning's flash the log they drew O'er WILLIAM'S prostrate form--O, sad to view!

When--wonder great--the cattle stood quite still (In strict obedience to their Maker's will)!

His head was on a log, his neck was bared, As if for some dread ax-stroke quite prepared.

The log they drew upon his shoulder rested-- And thus his courage was severely tested.

One more slight move would surely crush his head; In one short moment more he might be dead!

Still they move not!--Was this not Providence?

Come, Sceptics, answer; here is no pretence; What I relate are only simple facts.

Given with that faithfulness which truth exacts.

The father forward ran, in dreadful fear; "O, WILLIAM, thou art hurt!" fell on his ear.

The log was raised, when up at once he rose, Though feeling much as if his blood was froze.

To parent's kind inquiries he replied, "I feel no hurt except a bruised side."

But faintness o'er him soon began to come, When he was glad to reach his rude log home; And from that hour has ever thankful been For G.o.d's deliverance--so clearly seen.