Maduxnekeag’s waters are bluer;
Nipisquit’s pools are more black’
More green is the bright Oromocto,
And browner the Petitcodiac.
But colours more radiant in autumn
I see when I’m casting my hook
In the waves of the Skoodawabskooksis
Or perhaps in the Skoodawabskook.
Let others sing loudly of Saco,
Of Passadumkeag or Mistouche
Of Kennebecasis or Quaco,
Of Miramichi or Buctouche;
Or boast of the Tobique or Mispec,
The Musquash or dark Memramcook.
There’s none like the Skoodawabskooksis
Excepting the Skoodawabskook.
Think not that the Magaguadavic
Or Bocabec please the eye.
Though the Chiputneticook is lovely,
That to either of these we will fly.
No. When in Love’s union we’re plighted
We’ll build our log house by a brook
Which flows to the Skoodawabskooksis
Where it runs with the Skoodawabskook.
Then never of Waweig or Chamcook
I’ll think. Having you in my arms
We’ll reck not of Dideguash beauties;
We’ll care not for Pocologan’s charms.
But as emblems of union forever
Upon two fair rivers we’ll look,
While you’ll be the Skoodawabskooksis
I’ll be the Skoodawabskook.
weet maiden of
Passamaquoddy,
