Squeezed between two provinces.
NB and NS.
And pulsing with each tide.
When up the waves
When down the mud
Where shellfish
Came to hide.
A people plain
A people kind
Who’d give all that
They could.
The hinterland for timber.
The finest kinds of wood.
Acadia, a name that stuck.
And Longfellow’s poem for sure.
Evangeline a beauty rare
Expelled with roamings
To endure.
Her lover Lad
Sent on before.
Another ship of woe.
She followed, followed
Cross the lands
Her Lover’s fate to know.
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