The Song of the Exile-A Canadian Epic - BestLightNovel.com
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Trust to His loving care, And live thou patiently.
And when the looked-for day Of happiness and rest Has come, we both shall say "G.o.d truly knew the best."
And fondly to my heart I'll press thee, dearest Life; And none us two shall part, For thou wilt be my wife.
CANTO THE FOURTH.
I.
Toronto, on its island-girded bay, Full well protected from the storms which blow Across the lake, stands proudly, as well may The capital of all Ontario.
So situate, its properties beguile, Inviting me to pause and rest awhile.
II.
When young America (then recently An independent nation, full of pride Engendered by her new-born dignity), Would sever Canada from England's side, She sent an armed fleet across the lake, This town to capture and its fort to take.
III.
Six hundred soldiers only guarded then The little fort; but in their veins there flowed The blood of proud and valiant Englishmen.
And in their hearts a bitter hatred glowed Against the nation, whose unjust attack But urged them on to drive the invader back.
IV.
And, though the force opposing them was nigh Three times the number of their own, yet still They fought against their landing valiantly, Contending with a fierce and dogged will.
But numbers overpowered the gallant band, And soon the foe was safe upon the land.
V.
Then inch by inch contested they the ground, Determined not to yield to quick defeat; But, bravely though they fought, ere long they found Themselves compelled to beat a slow retreat.
But, falling back before the enemy, They lost not yet the hope of victory.
VI.
Meanwhile the enemy advanced within Two hundred yards of where the garrison Was quartered. Sudden ceased the battle's din, And he who led the invading army on Gave orders for a halt, in expectation Of winning now the fort's capitulation.
VII.
Then, as they halted, sudden a report, As of an earthquake, rent the trembling air, And, midst the debris of the scattered fort, Two hundred slain Americans lay there.
The British had retreated, but had fired The powder-magazine as they retired.
VIII.
Th' enraged Americans accounted this An act of baseness and of perfidy.
I know not what the law of slaughter is, But this I know, that they can hardly be Renowned for faith and truth to honour's code, Whose lives are spent in butchery and blood.
IX.
The man's environment perfects the man, And each can choose his own environment.
And each can either cause to die, or fan To brighter life, the seed or rudiment Of good or evil moral tendency Acquired, or inbred by heredity.
X.
And he who chooses warfare as the life Most suited to his predilections, he Who finds his happiness in constant strife, Will hardly honour peace and amity.
In bloodshed living, gentle virtues all A victim to his martial taste will fall.
XI.
In ancient days, when men were more uncouth Than now they are, it might be well, perchance, That they should study warfare, for, in sooth, The man who knew not how to poise the lance Or wield the mighty battle-axe, was then Despised and scorned by all his fellow-men.
XII.
But now the code of honour should not be As crude and rough as in that ancient day.
The onward march of Christianity Should sweep the sword and battle-axe away; And Love, the creed which Christ our Master taught, Should bring the pride of martial skill to nought.
XIII.
Let man still glory in the strength and might That G.o.d has given him. But it were well That he should use it not at all to fight Against his fellow-men. He still can dwell In peace with them, and yet retain the power Which is his great and justly-valued dower.
XIV.
I turn me from the thoughts of war, and gaze With pleased eyes upon this little bay.
So bright a scene, in all my exiled days, I have not looked upon; and like a ray Of light upon my darkened life it seems, Reviving hope within me by its beams.
XV.
The bay is dotted with a hundred boats, And brightly on the sail of many a skiff The evening sun is s.h.i.+ning, as it floats Upon the water, s.h.i.+ning thus as if To tell the little skiff, as on she goes, That he will guard her from tempestuous foes.
XVI.
In every boat I see, a maiden fair Accompanies the rower, and the sound Of merriment and laughter on the air Arises, softly echoing around.