Verse > Anthologies > William McCarty, ed. > The American National Song Book
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William McCarty, comp.  The American National Song Book.  1842.
 
Brave Wolfe
 
CHEER up, my young men all,
  Let nothing fright you;
Though oft objections rise,
  Let it delight you.
 
Let not your fancy move        5
  Whene’er it comes to trial;
Nor let your courage fail
  At the first denial.
 
I sat down by my love,
  Thinking that I woo’d her;        10
I sat down by my love,
  But sure not to delude her.
 
But when I got to speak
  My tongue it doth so quiver,
I dare not speak my mind,        15
  Whenever I am with her.
 
Love, here’s a ring of gold,
  ’Tis long that I have kept it,
My dear, now for my sake,
  I pray you to accept it.        20
 
When you the posy read,
  Pray think upon the giver,
My dear, remember me,
  Or I’m undone forever.
 
Then Wolfe he took his leave,        25
  Of his most lovely jewel;
Although it seemed to be,
  To him, an act most cruel.
 
Although it’s for a space
  I’m forced to leave my love,        30
My dear, where’er I rove,
  I’ll ne’er forget my dove.
 
So then this valiant youth
  Embarked on the ocean,
To free America        35
  From faction’s dire commotion.
 
He landed at Quebec,
  Being all brave and hearty;
The city to attack,
  With his most gallant party.        40
 
Then Wolfe drew up his men,
  In rank and file so pretty,
On Abraham’s lofty heights,
  Before this noble city.
 
A distance from the town        45
  The noble French did meet them,
In double numbers there,
  Resolved for to beat them.
 
A Parley.    Wolfe and Montcalm together.

Montcalm and this brave youth,
  Together they are walking,        50
So well they do agree,
  Like brothers they are talking.
 
Then each one to his post,
  As they do now retire;
O, then their numerous hosts        55
  Began their dreadful fire.
 
Then instant from his horse,
  Fell this most noble hero,
May we lament his loss,
  In words of deepest sorrow.        60
 
The French are seen to break,
  Their columns all are flying;
Then Wolfe he seems to wake,
  Though in the act of dying.
 
And lifting up his head,        65
  (The drums and trumpets rattle)
And to his army said,
  “I pray how goes the battle?”
 
His aide-de-camp replied,
  “Brave general, ’tis in our favour,        70
Quebec and all her pride,
  ’Tis nothing now can save her.
 
“She falls into our hands,
  With all her wealth and treasure.”
“O then,” brave Wolfe replied,        75
  “I quit the world with pleasure.”
 
 
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