The Song of the Exile--A Canadian Epic | Page 3

farewell.?Alas! my Love, we may not meet again,?For thou must leave me. Ah! I cannot tell?What pain was mine as on my knees I cried,?And begged my father to unbend his pride.
XIX.
"He will not hear me; nought that I can say?Will calm his wrath, but rather do my prayers?Increase his passion. Each recurring day,?When I would still importune him, he bears?A sterner aspect, and 'twere better now?That we should speak no more of this our vow.
XX.
"But leave thou me, and seek a foreign clime.?My father thus will think that thou hast lost?All hope of winning me. In one year's time?Return again; perhaps, by conscience tossed,?My father will repent his stern decree,?And gladly, as my husband, welcome thee."
XXI.
"Oh! fly thou with me, Love," I trembling cried,?"And--" but my loved one would not hear my cry:?"'Tis but a twelvemonth since my mother died,?And I should sin against my God if I?Should leave my father. Oh! my Love, seek not?To tempt me thus, but help me bear my lot."
XXII.
'Twere wrong to more persuade her. Silently?I kissed her gentle lips. A loving spell?Of sweet communion followed--it could be?But short--and then we bade a long farewell.?O'erwhelmed with tears, my gentle Love was gone,?And I must wander exiled and alone.
XXIII.
Yet is it best that I should wander thus,?Far from the cherished spot where we have passed?Such happy days, since not again for us?Will be the joy that seemed too great to last.?Her father is too stern a man to know?Remorse's sting; his hatred will but grow.
XXIV.
Each year my wandering feet shall hither stray,?Each year my heart will feel the pang anew.?And this one thought alone will cheer my way,?That she, my Love, is faithful still, and true.?Her father may forbid our union,?But still our hearts together beat as one.
XXV.
Lonely I stand, and silent gaze upon?The fading shore, where dwells my soul's twin-soul.?'Midst my companions I am still alone,?Less near to them than her, though billows roll?Between us two. Fast fades the distant strand.?Farewell my Love! Farewell my native Land!
XXVI.
England! dear land of liberty and peace,?Great art thou now, and greater still wilt be,?If but thy truth and honesty increase?As each revolving decade renders thee?In population greater. Let the name?Of Christian England fix thy future fame.
XXVII.
The tale is told that when a foreign king?Would know what pow'r thy gracious Queen possessed,?That she could rule, with might unfaltering,?Her people, and by them be ever blessed;?She laid her hand upon a Bible near,?And, smiling, said: "That pow'r lies hidden here."
XXVIII.
Defender of the Faith we call our Queen,?And she has been that Faith's exemplar too.?Not all the ages of the past have seen?A sovereign more noble, pure, and true.?And she has kept, as well as monarch could,?Her childhood's promise: "Oh! I will be good."
XXIX.
And not without the help of that great Book?Could she have kept the promise of her youth.?Through all the backward years of history look--?These plainly prove that declaration's truth.?Kingdoms may rise, and, with unquestioned sway,?Monarchs may rule, and none their right gainsay,
XXX.
But, founded on another base than this,?That monarch's might shall surely pass away;?No kingdom is so strong that it can miss?This destiny. A premature decay?Has greeted, and will ever greet, that land?Whose weak foundation trembles in the sand.
XXXI.
The sword is mighty; by its bloody might?Empires have risen--risen but to fall.?A nation built in blood must ever fight,?Or lose its name and power. 'Tis not all?To conquer once; an enemy subdued?Waits but a happy chance for further feud.
XXXII.
Nor will the nation nurtured by the sword,?If undisturbed by subjugated foes,?Remain in peace and rest; one murmured word?Of discontent will plunge it in the throes?Of fratricidal warfare; and not long?That word remains uncalled for by some wrong.
XXXIII.
The page of history is blotted o'er?With tales of bloodshed. Not a single nation?Exists, but spent its greater life in war.?And in each Power's restless fluctuation?From might to weakness, and from servitude?To might, is shown the sword's incertitude.
XXXIV.
Until the time when every mighty Power?Stands ready to confess the Christian creed?That bloodshed is a sin--until that hour?Has come, all Europe's treasuries must bleed,?That naval armaments may grimly stand,?And military menace every land.
XXXV.
Then, England, since an universal peace,?A peace eternal, has not been proclaimed,?Thy military might must still increase,?Thy naval glory must not be defamed.?But only when thine honour shall demand,?Or injured right, upraise thy martial hand.
XXXVI.
Be Christian first and last, and be not slow?To propagate the cause of arbitration.?Let peaceful compacts, bloodless victories, grow?Till hideous war, with ruthless devastation,?Destroy no more the beauty of thy land,?Nor raise against thy homes its bloodstained hand.
XXXVII.
Be Christian first and last, for thus alone?Shalt thou attain to might unfaltering.?No nation in the past has ever known?The lasting power which faith alone can bring.?Though each in turn has gained a glorious name,?Not one has risen to eternal fame.
XXXVIII.
The Roman C?sars, with increasing pride,?"Outstretched their hands and grasped a hemisphere."?Their