The Span o' Life: A Tale of Louisbourg & Quebec — John Shaqi
The Span o' Life: A Tale of Louisbourg & QuebecMcIlwraith, Jean N. (Jean Newton)
History
The Span o' Life: A Tale of Louisbourg & Quebec
McIlwraith, Jean N. (Jean Newton)
United States -- History -- French and Indian War, 1754-1763 -- Fiction
"Come, come, Hughie! We'll have no more of this! The child will
never close her eyes this night, and you should be ashamed, making
an exhibition of an old fool of a woman!" suddenly cried Lady Jane,
rising and wiping her eyes when I had finished telling of the death
of young Glengarry at Falkirk. And half laughing, half crying, she
kissed me and pushed me out of the room, before I had opportunity
to take a fitting farewell of Margaret, Pearl of all Women.
"If the Vicomte can make any running that will count against this,
I'll be much surprised," I thought to myself as I picked my way
home under a warm drizzle through the dirty, ill-lighted streets.
But outward discomforts mattered not a whit to me, for I had eaten
of the fruit of the gods, and that night I journeyed in the sunlight
of the Pays-du-Tendre, bearing in my heart the idol to which my
soul did homage, as I hummed over the song of some dead and forgotten
but valiant-hearted lady of my own house:
"When day was deid I met my Dear
On fair Kirkconnel Lea,
Though fause een spied, I knew no fear,
His love was over me.
He kissed me fu' upon the mou',
He looked me in the ee,
An' whispered low, 'Nor life nor death
Shall part my Love frae me!'
"The span o' Life's nae lang eneugh,
Nor deep eneugh the sea,
Nor braid eneugh this weary warld
To part my Love frae me!
"Though mony an' mony a day hath died
On fair Kirkconnel Lea
Sin' I stood by my True Love's side
An' melted 'neath his ee,
Yet ilka wind that fans my cheek
Kissed his in Germanie,
An' bids me bide; for what shall make
To part my Love frae me?
"The span o' Life's nae lang eneugh,
Nor deep eneugh the sea,
Nor braid eneugh this weary warld
To part my Love frae me!"
Do I need to relate the story of the next day, or of each one which
succeeded? Dear as it is to me, clearly as every fond remembrance
stands out before me, it might but weary a reader to whom I cannot
possibly convey even a conception of the sweet witchery of my
Margaret's engaging manner. Mine, though I might never possess her,
for I was too sincerely attached to Lady Jane to think of standing
in the way of her plans should she finally determine against me;
mine most of all, when I saw how eagerly the dear girl turned to
me whenever I appeared.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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