The Song of the Exile-A Canadian Epic Part 12

But 'tis not mine to speak of that campaign, Whose battles raged from Fort Niagara To Queenston Heights and far-famed Lundy's Lane; Nor yet abated until Chippewa, Black Rock, and Buffalo were summoned all To war and bloodshed by the bugle call.

x.x.xVI.

Too long I've dwelt on deeds of war, yet one Brave deed remains which must not be untold; One act--by which a gallant fight was won, One act--by which two n.o.ble lives were sold.

This only act recounting, I will cease To speak of war, and court the muse of peace.

x.x.xVII.

On Queenston Heights the battle raged, and far Around was heard its long-continued roar.

It echoed loudly where Niagara Lies nestling on Ontario's green sh.o.r.e.

It echoed loudly, nor escaped the ear Of him whose gallant heart was steeled to fear.

x.x.xVIII.

The n.o.ble Brock paused not when thus he heard The sound of warfare. Turning to his aide, He bade him hastily to give the word To saddle horse. Then rapidly they made Their way across the country to the height, And soon were in the thickest of the fight.

x.x.xIX.

In numbers far unequal to the foe, The British had retired. The battery Was taken by the enemy; though slow, Defeat for Britain seemed a certainty; When Brock arrived upon the battle-field, And bade them form again, nor ever yield.

XL.

Himself then leading, onward to the fray They charged, restrengthened by his confidence; And soon they saw the enemy give way, Retiring slowly from the eminence.

The day was theirs, the tide of battle turned, But dearly was that day of victory earned!

XLI.

The n.o.ble Brock would raise his sword no more; No more his cheering word would lead them on.

His soul had pa.s.sed away from scenes of war, His latest battle had been fought and won.

And with his spirit, in its upward flight, The soul of young Macdonell pa.s.sed that night.

XLII.

A lofty monument, upon the Height Where fell these two, commemorates their deed.

There stands it, tow'ring high within the sight Of either Land. Thus let it stand, and plead, In silent mournfulness, that further feud Between the Lands shall never be renewed.

XLIII.

For we are brothers still--the bond of blood Unites us closely, and, though each has done The other wrong, unselfish deeds and good, Which since have been exchanged, should quite atone For injuries long past. Then clasp our hand, America. As brothers let us stand.

XLIV.

I wander up the river's bank, my thought Still dwelling on those troublous times of yore, Until my mind by slow degrees is brought To present times and scenes. A distant roar At first recalls me from my reverie, Then bids me trace my steps less tardily.

XLV.

I know not why, yet, as I press my way Towards the world-renowned Falls, I feel A thrill of awe, which words may not convey Description of. The feeling may be real Or fanciful, but now my trembling soul Seems nearer G.o.d, and more in His control.

XLVI.

Majestic Falls! What little words of mine Can paint thy grandeur? How can I essay To picture such unpictured might as thine?

And yet I would not silent pa.s.s away, And carry with me nothing that recalls The grandeur of Niagara's proud Falls.

XLVII.

On, on, tumultuous waters, ever on Unceasingly ye rush, and blindly leap From giddy heights, in volume all unknown, Down, down the jagged rock-protruding steep, And, ever breaking as ye downward go, Burst forth in show'rs like iridescent snow.

XLVIII.

Here, rolling in unbroken s.h.i.+ning green, Your waters smoothly curve them o'er the cliff.

No sign of foam or bubbling break is seen As in their gla.s.sy depth they roll, as if While all around is wreck and chaos wild, They dare to flow conspicuously mild.

XLIX.

And here again they break while rus.h.i.+ng o'er Some rugged rock--a million flecks of spray Rise, high projected in the air; before These fall, or in the sunlight melt away, A new-born cloud, in high-aspiring pride, Bursts forth, and casts its foam-drops far and wide.

L.

And each new cloud a thing of life appears, And each leaps forth as though its wild intent Were solely to out-distance its compeers, And rise more high than they. And each seems bent On reaching to a height unreached before, And tells its purpose in a m.u.f.fled roar.

LI.

While, far below, a rocky destiny Awaits the mighty waters. Loud resounds The roaring of their falling constantly, While from the rocks the foaming ma.s.s rebounds; And upward rising, far above the height, A mist half hides the waters from my sight.

LII.

The evening sun illumes the rising spray, And forms a bow in beauty unsurpa.s.sed.

Above the Falls it bends its glist'ning ray, While in the deep its radiance is cast.

And, as the mist or fades or thickens, so It breaks or forms again the changing bow.

LIII.