The Song of the Exile--A Canadian Epic | Page 7

your voice, and stay
The march of war throughout the universe;

And rid you of its agony and curse?
XXXVIII.
It lies not in your pow'r to order those,
The nations still uncivilized, to
cease
From war, and, if they make themselves your foes,
Ye must
resist; yet can ye order peace
Among yourselves. And, sure, ye
Christian lands
Would wash the blood of war from off your hands!

XXXIX.
Slow, slow, the march of Christianity,
Yet sure--more sure because
its march is slow;
And settled now in peace and amity
Are issues
which, but fifty years ago,
Had been the cause of bloodshed and of
strife,
And cost each country many a noble life.
XL.
Then let the infidel or atheist,
Or him who doubts if ever God can be,

And questions the existence of a Christ,
Mark well the fruits of
Christianity,
And say what other power has ever wrought
The good
that Christianity has brought
XLI.
No myth or vain delusion can achieve
What love of Christ has done;
no mockery
Can bring the troubled comfort, or relieve
The broken
heart; nor can idolatry
Inspire our hearts with love and charity:

These follow only Christianity.
XLII.
I pause before a simple monument,
And read inscribed thereon the
noble names
Montcalm and Wolfe. Their enmity is spent,
And each
from French and English justly claims
An equal reverence. This
humble stone
Stands emblematic of their union.
XLIII.
And are the nations so united now,
In Canada, that nothing comes
between
To break the bond, or disannul the vow
Of friendship and
of fealty to our Queen?
Do they not rather live each wide apart

From other, bound in name but not in heart?
XLIV.

Well nigh a century and thirty years
Have run their course since
Canada became
An English colony; and yet appears,
Within her
shores, a unity in name,
And name alone, between those races who

Should live as one, but still exist as two.
XLV.
What boots it that an oath of loyalty
To Britain's Queen is taken by
the French,
If they but wait the opportunity
To give that man
support who seeks to wrench
This vast Dominion from the British
Crown,
And tear our noble red-cross banner down?
XLVI.
And why call that an English colony
In which a foreign tongue
predominates?
And how will he preserve his loyalty
To England,
who the name of England hates?
Too generous have been your
governors,
Too lightly exercised their given powers.
XLVII.
Ere this, if England had asserted all
The rights that conquest gave,
here might have been
A colony which we could truly call
A British
land. Nor should we now have seen,
In Canada, two nations side by
side
Upgrowing, by affection's bond untied.
XLVIII.
"A nation self-divided cannot stand."
All history has proved this
adage true.
And, Canada, if thou would'st be a land
Of might and
power, thou must surely do
As other lands have done; it cannot be

That thou wilt else secure prosperity.
XLIX.
Let not incipient rebellion grow
To actual revolt, but trample down


Its very sign, and with a mighty blow,
Crush all who rise disloyal to
the Crown.
Do this, but this alone will not suffice;
A sterner duty
yet before thee lies.
L.
Send forth the edict that the English tongue,
And it alone, shall be
official here,
And teach the language everywhere among
The
French in all the counties far and near.
Thus, and thus only, canst
thou hope to see
Thy future self preserved in unity.
LI.
But what are these to me? A passing thought,
An evanescent stirring
of the brain,
Which, for a time, forgetfulness has brought,
And
temporary soothing of my pain.
But as I turn away, anew I feel
The
burning sore which time can never heal.
LII.
Apart from her I love I wander here,
In thought communing with that
absent one;
In body distant, though in spirit near,
I feel our hearts
are in communion.
Then, softly murmuring, I breathe this lay
To
her so near, and yet so far away.

From regions remote my message shall float
On zephyrs across the
sea,
And softly thou'lt hear the words in thine ear,
"I love thee, I
love but thee."[D]
Though distant I rove, sweet thoughts of my love
Are ever at home
with me.
Each day and each hour but strengthen their power;
I love
thee, I love but thee.
If sorrow be thine, oh! cease to repine,
For mine thou shalt always be.


Oh! breathe not a sigh, though I am not nigh,
I love thee, I love but
thee.
Though oceans divide us and fortune deride us,
No two are more near
than we;
Our hearts close are beating in tenderest greeting;
I love
thee, I love but thee.
I ask not of Fate a lordly estate,
Or position of high degree;
I ask
her alone to grant me my own;
I love thee, I love but thee.
CANTO THE THIRD.
I.
Below me, as I stand upon this mount,
I see, in panoramic view
displayed
So clearly that with ease I could recount
The mighty
buildings and the ships fast stayed
Within the harbour, Montreal, the
port
Of Canada, and once its chiefest fort.
II.
And, winding through the valley, I can see
St. Lawrence river, and
the fields beyond
Of corn and pasture