'Twas summer in the dusty street,
'Twas summer in the busy town,
Summer in forests waving green,
When, at an inn in old Lachine,
And in the room where strangers meet,
Sat one, bright-eyed and bold and brown.
Soon will he joyful start for home,
For home in fair Plantagenet.
His wallet filled with two years' pay,
Well won at distant Hudson's Bay,
And the silk dress that stands alone,
For her the darling, dark-eyed one.
Parted so long, so soon to meet,
His every thought of her is sweet.
"My bride, my wife, with what regret,
I left her at Plantagenet!"
There came no whisper through the air
To tell him of his baby fair.
But still he sat with absent eye,
And thoughts that were all homeward bound,
And passed the glass untasted by,
While jest, and mirth, and song went round.
There sat and jested, drunk and sung,
The captain of an Erie boat,
With Erin's merry heart and tongue,
A skilful captain when afloat--
On shore a boon companion gay;
The foremost in a tavern brawl,
To dance or drink the night away,
Or make love in the servants' hall.