The canadian magazine of politics, science, art and literature, November 1910-April 1911 . the slanted deck,The fog and the windy air. For I have spied (once and again)The face of snow, the lips red stain.The eyes that never gleam in vain.A-flash in the wakes bright whirlI have beheld—God save my soul!—The pleading hands of pearl. Hispaniola knows my spars; And roaring towns and Christs high stars Have seen my glory and my scars. Bahia knows my fire, And many a palm-fringed anchorage Has burned to my desire. But now! Dear Life, I needs must go,For I have seen the arms of snow—Frost and fire in

The canadian magazine of politics, science, art and literature, November 1910-April 1911 . the slanted deck,The fog and the windy air. For I have spied (once and again)The face of snow, the lips red stain.The eyes that never gleam in vain.A-flash in the wakes bright whirlI have beheld—God save my soul!—The pleading hands of pearl. Hispaniola knows my spars; And roaring towns and Christs high stars Have seen my glory and my scars. Bahia knows my fire, And many a palm-fringed anchorage Has burned to my desire. But now! Dear Life, I needs must go,For I have seen the arms of snow—Frost and fire in Stock Photo
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The canadian magazine of politics, science, art and literature, November 1910-April 1911 . the slanted deck, The fog and the windy air. For I have spied (once and again)The face of snow, the lips red stain.The eyes that never gleam in vain.A-flash in the wakes bright whirlI have beheld—God save my soul!—The pleading hands of pearl. Hispaniola knows my spars; And roaring towns and Christs high stars Have seen my glory and my scars. Bahia knows my fire, And many a palm-fringed anchorage Has burned to my desire. But now! Dear Life, I needs must go, For I have seen the arms of snow—Frost and fire in the depths below.Quick, Death, I wait you now.For I must touch my lips uponHer pitiful, white brow. No more for me shall islands riseLike mist and fire beneath the skies.No more for me lifes mad emprise.Like candles on the tideThe sweet famihar lamps grow dimBy wharf and harbour-side. Life, I make my peace with you.For I have heard the summons true.And I am done with the green and blue.Death, I make my plea.Strike not, until I feel her lipsPress mine beneath the seal 255 PI Air, . PLAN OF THE OLD FORT OF THE CKOW INDIANS, ON THE BLACKFOOT RESERVE AN ANCIENT INDIAN FORT BY EDMUND MORRIS (KYAI-YI-A-SO-KOS-IM) VV/HILE camped on the Black-^ foot reserve painting interestingprimitive types to be found amongstthe tribe, I made a discovery ofarchaeological importance, namely, theancient fort made by the Crow Indianswhere they took their last standagainst the Blackfoot, who came fromthe timber country to the north ofthe present city of Edmonton anddrove them out of the countrj to-wards the Missouri. The Crow Indians were a fierce andwar-like tribe of the Dakotah linguisticstock, and originally, like the Assini-boins and INIanadans, formed a part ofthe great Sioux Nation, but were ex-pelled by them from their early hunt-ing grounds and driven into the coun-try of the Flatheads; later they wereagain thrust aside by the invincibleBlackfoot, who became plainsmen andentered into posse