The Song of the Exile--A Canadian Epic | Page 8

land. The scenery
Reminds
me of my native land, and fond,
Yet sad and sorrow-laden, memories

Possess me as the vision meets my eyes.
III.
My native land! still, still I think of thee;
By day and night the
oft-recurring thought
Brings intermingled pain and joy to me.
And
oft I curse the fortune which has brought
These days of exile and of
solitude
To one who longs for peace and quietude.
IV.
My life has not been sinless, yet what sin
Have I committed that my

punishment
Should be so great! An aching heart within
Still makes
me sorrowful. Why was I sent,
Far from my home, to wander lonely
here,
Apart from those whose love I hold so dear?
V.
I met and loved her whom I may not wed,
And, ere I knew that she
could not be mine,
I thought that God upon my life had shed
A
brighter light than had been wont to shine.
And, sure, this power
cometh from above;
He teacheth us to love, whose name is Love.
VI.
And since He giveth us this love, oh! why
Doth He not smooth the
path of love, and hear
The prayer of those who in their anguish cry

To Him for help, and in their godly fear
Rely upon His aid? And why
hath He
Prepared this pain and agony for me?
VII.
Be still my soul; it is not thine to take
Thy God to task. Canst thou
forget the pain
And agony He suffered for thy sake?
Or canst
remember these and not restrain
Thyself from challenging thy God?
Be still,
And bow submissive to thy Father's will.
VIII.
'Twas man condemned me to a life of woe,
And 'twas not God. The
pride of man hath said
That I must suffer thus. It must be so

Because the baronet was nobler bred.
Oh, cruel, cruel wrong! Oh
mockery!
That bluer blood should sever her from me!
IX.
Give thanks to God, Canadians, that ye
Have not been cursed with
nobility.
And, as you love your country, keep it free
From those

whose utter inutility
For any good is proven by their pride
Of blood;
they have not aught to boast beside.
X.
A noble land is yours, and ye may well
Be proud of her. And here
before me lies
Your greatest city. Would that I could tell
One-half
the tales of brave self-sacrifice
Which those who founded Montreal
had shown,
Ere yet the name of Canada was known.
XI.
But, should I strive to speak of every deed
Of sacrifice and brave
endurance borne
By all your heroes, I should feel the need
Of
greater time, and heart less sorrow-worn;
Nor have the Muses so
inspired my pen
That I can fitly praise those noble men.
XII.
Yet would I strive to sing as best I may
Of him who landed first upon
this shore;
I fain would speak of hardy Cartier:
His ship the first St.
Lawrence ever bore;
His face the first pale-face the Indians
Had
seen; his deeds well merit utterance.
XIII.
Three centuries and half a century
Have sped their course since
Cartier set sail
From France, intent upon discovery.
He oft had
heard the wonder-stirring tale
Of distant lands possessed of mighty
wealth;
These now he would discover for himself.
XIV.
And westward sailing on his unknown way,
In course of time he met
his due reward;
And sailed this noble river on the day
Made holy to
St. Lawrence. He implored
The blessing of the Saint upon his aim,


And called the gulf and river by his name.
XV.
Then, landing on the wooded shore, he knelt
Before his God, and
offered up a prayer
To Him, to show the gratitude he felt
Towards
the God whose hand had brought him there
In safety. And he asked
for further aid
And guidance in the land where now he stayed.
XVI.
When men were more unlearned than they are
In this our present
scientific day,
The earth to heaven seemed to be more near,
And
God Himself appeared less far away.
For deeds accomplished, or for
blessings given,
Due praise was offered to the God of Heaven.
XVII.
But now our wise philosophers, and those
Whose scientific
knowledge is so vast
That he who knows what has escaped them
knows
What is not worth the knowing; these, at last,
Have reached
to such a pinnacle of pride,
That God Himself is little by their side.
XVIII.
In truth, their learning has become so great
That their imagination can
conceive
No being mightier than they, and, straight,
In God's
existence they will not believe.
And men untutored listen to their
word,
And deem those foolish who believe the Lord.
XIX.
But Cartier was living in an age
When Science in her cradle was
asleep,
And men accounted not themselves too sage
To bow to God
in prayer, nor to reap
The benefits which only can accrue
To those
whose faith in God is pure and true.

XX.
So he besought a blessing from his Lord
Before he re-embarked; then,
setting sail,
The newly-christened river he explored,
Till, favored
by a gently-blowing gale,
He reached the Hochelaga settlement
Of
Indians, and thence no further went.
XXI.
A hundred years elapsed, and then there came
A little band from
France to yonder isle;
To found