My Heart Is There

Today's post is dedicated to the poem "Tadoussac" by Charles Bancroft.  It expresses so well my never-ending delight with the woods, and the hunger in my soul to be there when I must be other places instead.

I've seen the Thousand Islands

In the beauty of the dawn;

And sailed on lake Ontario,

When the shades of night were drawn,

I've wandered in Toronto,
Climbed the "Mount" at Montreal;
Run the great St. Lawrence rapids,
Where the waters swirl and fall.

I've slept up in the Chateau,
At Quebec; and known the thrill
Of rambling through the "Old Town"
And the fort upon the hill.

I've felt the sacred beauty
Of the splendor on Sag'nay;
The warmth of homespun blankets
That were made at Murray Bay.

But in my soul's a hunger
Once again for Tadoussac;
The endless fascination
Of its quaintness draws me back.

I hear again the mission bell
That calls the folks to prayer;
And as I walk the city streets
My heart is with them there.