From Down The River

A HALF-BREED, slim, and sallow of face,
  Alphonse lies full length on his raft,
The hardy son of a hybrid race.

Lithe and long, with the Indian grace,
  Versed in the varied Indian craft,
A half-breed, slim, and sallow of face,

He nurses within mad currents that chase-
  The swift, the sluggish-a foreign graft,
This hardy son of a hybrid race.

What southern airs, what snows embrace
  Within his breast-soft airs that waft
The half-breed-slim, and sallow of face,

Far from the Gatineau's foaming base!
  And what strong potion hath he quaffed,
This hardy son of a hybrid race,

That upon this sun-baked blistered place
  He sleeps, with his hand on the burning haft,
A Metis-slim and sallow of face,
  The hardy son of a hybrid race!