The Song of the Exile--A Canadian Epic | Page 5

echo its truthful
strain.
The power of man, that limitless span
Of ocean, can ne'er
restrain.
But I know that their Maker can challenge each breaker,
And still
every wave by His word;
And o'er me a feeling comes silently
stealing
Of awe at the might of the Lord.
And sweet is the thought, by memory brought,
That once on the
waters He trod;
And my soul seems to be, on the breast of the sea,

Alone in the presence of God.
Then soft on the air I whisper a prayer,
And know 'twill be echoed
above:
"Be Thou very near her to comfort and cheer her,
Oh, God,
bless and cherish my Love!"
CANTO THE SECOND.
I.
Renowned Quebec, upon its rocky height,
Stands frowning o'er St. Lawrence' noble river;
Well-nigh
impregnable, its chosen site
Bespeaks its founder's wisdom, and
forever
Should be remembered all the toil and pain
Endured by him,
brave Samuel de Champlain.
II.
Not light the task, nor enviable the lot
Of him who thus would plant,
on shores unknown,
And in a wild and never-trodden spot,
A
new-born city's first foundation stone.
A sturdy courage and a fearless

heart
Belong to him who plays so bold a part.
III.
Not first to land in Acadie, nor first
To sail the great St. Lawrence,
brave Champlain
Yet dared what none before him ever durst--
To
give his life and labour--not for gain
To be derived from profitable
trade--
Ambition else by hardship had been stayed;
IV.
But, for his king to found a colony,
And, for his God to win another
land,
He suffered pain and hardship patiently;
And, with a busy and
unflinching hand,
He laboured on that wild and rugged shore;
Nor
ceased to labour till he breathed no more.
V.
He had not thus endured, as he endured,
Except his faith had given
him new might;
Nor had he been to suffering inured,
And patient
borne, except the holy rite,
Each day renewed, had cheered his
fainting soul,
Enabling him to keep his courage whole.
VI.
Ye, living in your luxury and ease
Think not of all your country's
fathers bore;
And still forget the famine and disease
Those pioneers
suffered on your shore.
Their names are unfamiliar on your tongue,

Their deeds but vaguely known, their praise unsung.
VII.
So has it been, and so shall ever be
The man who stands to-day a
shining light,
The hero who commands our fealty,
To-morrow, in
oblivion's dark night,
Will be forgotten, or, on history's page,
May
flicker dimly in a future age.

VIII.
Think not, ye men who seek to carve your name
On monuments of
everlasting stone,
That ye can thus secure eternal fame.
Far greater
deeds than yours have others done,
And greater far the harvest they
have sown,
Which now ye reap, while they remain unknown.
IX.
As through the ages, silent and unseen,
The tiny corals work beneath
the wave
And build a reef, which reef had never been
Except each
coral there had found a grave;
So work the heroes of the human race,

And in their work-field find a resting place.
X.
How vast the number of the coral shells
That form the reef! And yet
of these but one
Of many thousands ever elsewhere dwells
Than on
that reef; all hidden and unknown
The rest remain, and few indeed
are they
Which shine as jewels at a later day.
XI.
And thus have lived our heroes in the past:
The army of the brave and
noble who
Have laboured uncomplaining, and at last
Have yielded
up their lives; but there are few
Whose names stand forth, as worth
would bid them stand,
Revered and honoured in their fatherland.
XII.
But Canada, let not the brave Champlain
Be thus in dark oblivion
forgot.
Grant him the fame he never sought to gain;
Pay him the
honour that he courted not;
And on thine earliest page of history

Write large his name, not as a mystery
XIII.

Or name unknown--but tell his deeds abroad,
And teach thy children
all that he has done
Not hard the task, and thou canst well afford
To
show the gratitude that he has won
From thee; and thus thou surely
wilt impart
A proud ambition in thy children's heart
XIV.
To imitate the man, so true and brave,
Who laboured self-denyingly
in life,
And 'neath the city's walls has found a grave,
At rest at last,
and free from further strife.
Thus, as thy children knowledge of him
gain,
Their hearts shall burn to emulate Champlain.
XV.
I stand upon the plains of Abraham,
And, silent as I stand, a train of
thought
Comes o'er me, and the spot whereon I am
Seems almost
holy ground; for here was fought
That mighty battle, whose event
would show
If Canada were British soil or no.
XVI.
Before my eyes a vision rises bright,
And, in the vision, I can clearly
see
The actions re-enacted of that fight;
And grand indeed the sight
appears to me.
Repictured thus, I gaze upon the scene,
And
meditate again on what has been.
XVII.
Ere yet the light had broken on that morn,[B]
Before the sun had shed
his rays around,
While blackest darkness heralded the dawn,
The
little fleet had left its anchor-ground;
With not a lantern showing light
or gleam,
It floated