Baptism In Lake Allumette
By Nora Pembroke (Margaret Moran Dixon McDougall)
Oh Allumette, hemmed with thy fringe of pine,
Watched over by thy mountains far away,
Thy waters have been troubled oftentime,
Never before as they have been to day!
The red man on the war path, with light stroke,
Hath cleaved thy waters moving stealthily;
Hunter and hunted deer thy surface broke
With splash and struggle of the living prey.
Across thy bosom venturous Champlain
And faithful Brule have pursued their way;
Seeking for distant golden Indian vain
Finding Coulonge while searching for Cathay
The knights of industry the sons of toil,
Trouble thy waters in the eager strife
To win success and wealth, the glittering spoil
For which men daily peril more than life
'Twas a new motive from their homes to day
That drew an eager wondering people out,
Like those who from Mount Zion took their way,
From Judah and the regions round about
It might have been the Jordan flowed along
Or that, sweet stream where people met for prayer,
Still expectation held the gathering throng
By the lake shore, in the hushed Sabbath air
And earnest, fervent pleading prayer was made
Rose the sweet strains of the old Scottish psalm
And words of witness for God s truth were said,
The only sound that broke the sacred calm
Then down into the waters of the lake,
The preacher and believer slowly came,
Not heeding scornful words for His dear sake,
Who bore the cross for us despised the shame
Buried with Him by baptism to death
Following the path which He the Sa lour trod,
To rise with Him to that new life He saith
He hath laid up for us with Christ in God