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CANADIAN SINGERS AND THEIR SONGS The Indian Corn Planter.

He needs must leave the trapping and the chase For mating game his arrows ne'er dispoil. And from the hunters Heaven turn his face To wring some promise from the dormant soil " He needs must leave the lodge that wintered him The enervating fires, the blanket bed, The women's dulcet voices for the grim Reality of laboring for bread. " So goes he forth beneath the planters moon With sack of seed that harbors large increase His simple pagan faith knows night and noon Heat, cold, seed time and harvest shall not cease " And yielding to his need, this honest sod Brown as the hand that tills it, moist with rain Teeming with ripe fulfilment true as God, With fostering richness mothers every grain.

E. Pauline JohnsonTekahionwake 57