The Hill Of San Sebastian
I ought to feel more satisfy an' happy dan
I be,
For better husban' dan ma own, it 's very
hard to fin'
An' plaintee woman if dey got such boy an'
girl as me
Would never have no troub' at all, an'
not'ing on deir min'
But w'ile dey're alway wit' me, an' dough I
love dem all
I can't help t'inkin' w'en I watch de chil'ren
out at play
Of tam I'm jus' lak dat mese'f, an' den de
tear will fall
For de hill of St. Sebastien is very far away!
It seem so pleasan' w'en I come off here ten
year ago
An' hardes' work I 'm gettin' den, was never
heavy load,
De roughes' place is smoot' enough, de
quickes' gait is slow
For glad I am to foller w'ere Louis lead de
road
But somet'ing 's comin' over me, I feel it
more an' more
It 's alway pullin' on de heart, an' stronger
ev'ry day,
An' O! I long to see again de reever an' de
shore
W'ere de hill of St. Sebastien is lookin' on
de bay!
I use to t'ink it 's fine t'ing once, to stan' upon
de door
An' see de great beeg medder dere, stretchin'
far an' wide,
An' smell de pleasan' flower dat grow lak star
on de prairie floor,
An' watch de spotted antelope was feedin'
ev'ry side,
How did we gain it, man an' wife, dis lan' was
no man 's lan'?
By rifle, an' harrow an' plow, shovel an'
spade an' hoe
De blessin' of good God up above, an' work of
our own strong han'
Till it stan' on de middle, our leetle nes',
w'ere de wheat an' cornfiel' grow.
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poem by William Henry Drummond
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