Temagami

  Far in the grim Northwest beyond the lines
  That turn the rivers eastward to the sea,
  Set with a thousand islands, crowned with pines,
  Lies the deep water, wild Temagami:
  Wild for the hunter's roving, and the use
  Of trappers in its dark and trackless vales,
  Wild with the trampling of the giant moose,
  And the weird magic of old Indian tales.
  All day with steady paddles toward the west
  Our heavy-laden long canoe we pressed:
  All day we saw the thunder-travelled sky
  Purpled with storm in many a trailing tress,
  And saw at eve the broken sunset die
  In crimson on the silent wilderness.