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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE DEVIL, by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND First Line: Along de road from bord a plouffe Last Line: An' devil's too scare go in. | |||
A LONG de road from Bord a Plouffe To Kaz-a-baz-u-a W'ere poplar trees lak sojers stan', An' all de lan' is pleasan' lan', In off de road dere leev's a man Call Louis Desjardins. An' Louis, w'en he firse begin To work hees leetle place, He work so hard de neighbors say, "Unless he tak's de easy way Dat feller's sure to die some day, We see it on hees face." 'T was lak a swamp, de farm he got, De water ev'ryw'ere -- Might drain her off as tight as a drum. An' back dat water is boun' to come In less'n a day or two -- ba Gum! 'T would mak' de angel swear. So Louis t'ink of de bimeby, If he leev' so long as dat, W'en he's ole an' blin' an' mebbe deaf, All alone on de house hese'f, No frien', no money, no not'ing lef', An' poor -- can't kip a cat. So wan of de night on winter tam, W'en Louis is on hees bed, He say out loud lak a crazy man, "I'm sick of tryin' to clear dis lan', Work any harder I can't stan', Or it will kill me dead. "Now if de devil would show hese'f An' say to me, 'Tiens! Louis! Hard tam an' work she's at an' en', You'll leev' lak a Grand Seigneur ma frien', If only you'll be ready w'en I want you to come wit'me.' "I'd say, 'Yass, yass -- 'maudit! w'at's dat?" An' he see de devil dere -- Brimstone, ev'ryt'ing bad dat smell, You know right away he's come from -- well, De place I never was care to tell -- An' wearin' hees long black hair, Lak election man, de kin' I mean You see aroun' church door, Spreadin' hese'f on great beeg speech 'Bout poor man's goin' some day be reech, But dat's w'ere it alway come de heetch, For poor man's alway poor. De only diff'rence -- me -- I see 'T ween devil an' long-hair man It's hard to say, but I know it's true, W'en devil promise a t'ing to do Dere's no mistak', he kip it too -- I hope you understan'. So de devil spik, "You're not content, An' want to be reech, Louis -- All right, you'll have plaintee, never fear No wan can beat you far an' near, An' I'll leave you alone for t'orty year, An' den you will come wit' me. "Be careful now -- it's beeg contrac', So mebbe it's bes' go slow: For me -- de promise I mak' to you Is good as de bank Riviere du Loup For you -- w'enever de tam is due, Ba tonder! you got to go." Louis try hard to tak' hees tam But w'en he see de fall Comin' along in a week or so, All aroun' heem de rain an' snow An' pork on de bar'l runnin' low, He don't feel good at all. An' w'en he t'ink of de swampy farm An' gettin' up winter night, Watchin' de stove if de win' get higher For fear de chimley go on fire, It's makin' poor Louis feel so tire He tell de devil, "All right." "Correct," dat feller say right away, "I'll only say, Au revoir," An' out of de winder he's goin' pouf! Beeg nose, long hair, short tail, an' hoof Off on de road to Bord a Plouffe Crossin' de reever dere. W'en Louis get up nex' day, ma frien', Dere's lot of devil sign -- Bar'l o' pork an' keg o' rye, Bag o' potato ten foot high, Pile o' wood nearly touch de sky, Was some o' de t'ing he fin'. Suit o' clothes would have cos' a lot An' ev'ryt'ing I dunno, Trotter horse w'en he want to ride Eatin' away on de barn outside, Stan' all day if he's never tied, An' watch an' chain also. An' swamp dat's bodder heem many tam, W'ere is dat swamp to-day? Don't care if you're huntin' up an' down You won't fin' not'ing but medder groun', An' affer de summer come aroun' W'ere can you see such hay? Wall! de year go by, an' Louis leev' Widout no work to do, Rise w'en he lak on winter day, Fin' all de snow is clear away, No fuss, no not'ing, dere's de sleigh An' trotter waitin' too. W'en t'orty year is nearly t'roo An' devil's not come back 'Course Louis say, "Wall! he forget Or t'ink de tam's not finish yet; I'll tak' ma chance an' never fret," But dat's w'ere he mak' mistak'. For on a dark an' stormy night W'en Louis is sittin' dere, Affer he fassen up de door De devil come as he come before, Lookin' de sam' only leetle more, For takin' heem -- you know w'ere. "Asseyez vous, sit down, ma frien', Bad night be on de road; You come long way an' should be tire -- Jus' wait an' mebbe I feex de fire -- Tak' off your clothes for mak' dem drier, Dey mus' be heavy load." Dat's how poor Louis Desjardins Talk to de devil, sir -- Den say, "Try leetle w'isky blanc, Dey're makin' it back on St. Laurent -- It's good for night dat's cole an' raw," But devil never stir, Until he smell de smell dat come W'en Louis mak' it hot Wit' sugar, spice, an' ev'ryt'ing, Enough to mak' a man's head sing -- For winter, summer, fall an' spring -- It's very bes' t'ing we got. An' so de devil can't refuse To try de w'isky blanc, An' say, "I'm tryin, many drink, An' dis is de fines' I don't t'ink, De firse, ba tonder! mak' me wink -- Hooraw, pour Canadaw!" "Merci -- non, non -- I tak' no more," De devil say at las', "For tam is up wit' you, Louis, So come along, ma frien', wit' me, So many star I'm sure I see, De storm she mus' be pas'." "No hurry -- wait a minute, please," Say Louis Desjardins, "We'll have a smoke before we're t'roo, 'T will never hurt mese'f or you To try a pipe, or mebbe two, Of tabac Canayen." "Wan pipe is all I want for me -- We'll finish our smoke downstair," De devil say, an' it was enough, For w'en he tak' de very firse puff He holler out, "Maudit! w'at stuff! Fresh air! fresh air!! fresh air!!!" An' oh! he was never sick before Till he smoke tabac Bruneau -- Can't walk or fly, but he want fresh air So Louis put heem on rockin' chair An' t'row heem off on de road out dere -- An' tole heem go below. An' he shut de door an' fill de place Wit' tabac Canayen, An' never come out, an' dat's a fac' -- But smoke away till hees face is black -- So dat's w'y de devil don't come back For Louis Desjardins. An' dere he's yet, an' dere he'll stay -- So weech of de two'll win Can't say for dat -- it's kin' of a doubt, For Louis, de pipe never leave hees mout', An' night or day can't ketch heem out, An' devil's too scare go in. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A RAINY DAY IN CAMP by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND AUTUMN DAYS by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND BARBOTTE (BULL-POUT) by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND BATEESE AND HIS LITTLE DECOYS by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND BATEESE THE LUCKY MAN by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND BLOOM - A SONG OF COBALT by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND BOULE by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND BRUNO THE HUNTER by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND CANADIAN FOREVER by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND CAUDA MORRHUAE by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND |
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