Two Souls

Most reverend Father, I have borne all wrong, Agonies, griefs, revengements. Yet not I, But rather He Who knew and loved us long, And came at last to die. In my maimed hands ye see Him, in my face His poor abiding place,

"Lo, they will hear My voice and understand; Go, seek My wandering sheep," the Shepherd saith, So, o'er the world I sought them, hand in hand With that dark brother of our Order, Death. Under the shadow of his bitterest Behold, two souls for God!

Like the reed-feeding swans that cannot choose But hear the voice of summer, in swift flight Up from Three Rivers came the long canoes Through calm of day and night, I in the foremost, Coupil and Couture, Whose fiery crowns are sure.

Sweet shines the summer over Normandy, And bright on Aries among her blossoming vines, But O, more sweet than any land or sea The northern summer shines. Each night a silvered dream to cast away, Each golden dream a day—

So we went on, and our dark Hurons smiled, Singing the child-songs of the woodpecker, Through clear green glooms and amber bars enisled Of tamarack and fir. Till one cried, "Lo, a shadow and a dread Steals from the isles ahead!"

Death laid a sudden silence on his lips. In tumult of torn waters at the side. Crashing, he fell, and all our little ships Shook on that reddening tide. Then the blue noon was torn with steel and flame, And the Five Nations came.