Seven Islands Bay



The skipper sailed out of the harbor mouth
Leaving the apple-bloom of the South
For the ice of the Eastern seas
In his fishing schooner Breeze

Handsome and brave and young was he
And the maids of Newbury sighed to see
His lessening white sail fall
Under the sea's blue wall

Through the Northern Gulf and the misty screen
Of the isles of Mingan and Madeleine
St. Paul's and Blanc Sablon
The little Breeze sailed on

Backward and forward, along the shore
Of lorn and desolate Labrador
And found at last her way
To the Seven Islands Bay

The little hamlet, nestling below
Great hills white with lingering snow
With its tin-roofed chapel stood
Half hid in the dwarf spruce wood

Green-turfed, flower-sown, the last outpost
Of summer upon the dreary coast
With its gardens small and spare
Sad in the frosty air

Through the Northern Gulf and the misty screen
Of the isles of Mingan and Madeleine
St. Paul's and Blanc Sablon
The little Breeze sailed on

Backward and forward, along the shore
Of lorn and desolate Labrador
And found at last her way
To the Seven Islands Bay

To the Seven Islands Bay
Come, when the night is late
The heretic's sail is here
Go, see, if the dead will wake!

Through the Northern Gulf and the misty screen
Of the isles of Mingan and Madeleine
St. Paul's and Blanc Sablon
The little Breeze sailed on

(We sail) Backward and forward, along the shore
Of lorn and desolate Labrador
And found at last her way
To the Seven Islands Bay