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(Excerpt)
AFAR, Quebec exalts her crest on high, | |
| Her rocks and battlements invade the sky; * * * * * | |
| While on the Bay’s broad bosom far and wide, | |
| The anchored fleets of commerce proudly ride. | |
| Huge cliffs above precipitous that frown, | 5 |
| Like Atlas, bent beneath another town, | |
| Where all along the gray embrasured steep | |
| In grim repose the watchful cannon peep, | |
| Tall spires, and domes, and turrets shine afar | |
| Behind the archèd gates, and mounds of war, | 10 |
| While proud Cape Diamond towers above them all, | |
| With aerial glacis and embattled wall; | |
| Till on the loftiest point where swift birds rise, | |
| Old England’s standard floats amid the skies. | |
| Oh! glorious spot! the Briton’s boast and pride, | 15 |
| Where armies battled and where heroes died, | |
| Where gallant Wolfe led his devoted band, | |
| Rejoiced in death and waved his dying hand; | |
| Mid cheers of victory rung from side to side, | |
| The hero smiled content, and calmly died! | 20 |
| Though few his years and young his lofty fame, | |
| With greenest garlands England crowns his name; | |
| And on her roll of glory proudly reads | |
| The nation’s records of his mighty deeds. | |
| And noble Montcalm! Well thy honored bier | 25 |
| May claim the tribute of a British tear. | |
| Although the lilies from these ramparts fell, | |
| Thy name immortal with great Wolfe’s shall dwell: | |
| Like him, thy consciousness of duty done | |
| Soothed thy last pang, and cheered thy setting sun! | 30 |
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