Vii

And when the orange flood came roaring in From Fundy’s tumbling troughs and tide-worn caves, While red Minudie’s flats were drowned with din And rough Chignecto’s front oppugned the waves, How blithely with the refluent foam I raced Inland along the radiant chasm, exploring The green solemnity with boisterous haste; My pulse of joy outpouring To visit all the creeks that twist and shine From Beauséjour to utmost Tormentine.