The Song of the Exile--A Canadian Epic | Page 4

glory swelled with ever-flowing tide,?And nations bowed to them in trembling fear.?Their eagles flew, and lofty was their flight,?Yet only C?sar's empire met their sight.
XXXIX.
But now the Roman Empire is no more;?No longer Roman eagles sweep the sky.?The pampered luxury of Rome soon bore?Its wonted fruit--gross immorality;?And weakened thus, and by internal strife,?Great C?sar's Empire yielded up its life.
XL.
And classic Greece, which, in a former age,?Bore mighty warriors without compeer,?Knew not the land whose war-compelling gage?Could not be taken up without a fear.?But now her power is so completely broke,?She almost yields her to an Asian yoke.
XLI.
And France, in later days, has girded on?A might magnificent; and none could stay?The pow'r of her adored Napoleon,?Before whose hosts, in ill-concealed dismay,?The nations fled. Then France her flag unfurled,?And waved it proudly over half a world.
XLII.
But not in England. And when Bonaparte?Would lay the British nation at his feet,?Her legions tore his mighty hosts apart,?And snatched the Conqueror from his lofty seat.?Then France's glory faded fast away,?Till not a nation owned her sovereign sway.
XLIII.
And thus have mighty nations ever perished,?Or lost the greater portion of their might,?When, as their sole upholder, they have cherished?The reeking sword, in disregard of right.?Then, England, take thou warning by their fate,?And keep thy Christian faith inviolate.
XLIV.
America's Republic stands alone.?But once for bloody glory did she raise?Her martial hand; and Canada was thrown?Into a state of war.[A] But all essays?To sever her allegiance from her King?Proved vain--her faith remained unfaltering.
XLV.
But once America unrighteously?Led forth her armies. Only to defend?Her people's honour and integrity?Has she, since then, allowed them to contend?In bitter warfare. And the peaceful arts?Engage more readily her people's hearts.
XLVI.
A noble nation striving peacefully?To gain the highest pinnacle of honour,?Without a peer in ingenuity;?Well mayest thou, great England, look upon her?As worthier far to be thy firm ally?Than any European monarchy.
XLVII.
Send forth thy Prince's son, and let him find?In broad America a worthy bride.?Thus let the ties of blood together bind?The Anglo-Saxon race on either side?The great Atlantic. Keep thy princes free?From royal Europe's mad heredity.
XLVIII.
Far better were it they should choose their brides?From some American pure family,?Than wed their cousins, in whose blood, besides?The fell disease which immorality?Of ancestors has planted there, there run?Weaknesses caused by kindred's union.
XLIX.
The scurvy-stricken family whose head?Rules all the Russias' limitless domain;?The progeny of Ludwig, lately dead?By his own hand; the Hohenzollern vain?And proud, and yet diseased; or Austria's queen?Whose hidden madness still is plainly seen:
L.
Shall we defile our royal English blood?By marriage with such families as these??Shall English kings inherit all this flood?Of imbecility and dread disease??Must all the purity of Guelph be so?Impaired and ruined by this noisome flow?
LI.
Nay, rather let us throw aside that form,?(That well had been abolished in the past),?Which bids our royal princes to conform?To rules as rigid as the Indian caste?Distinctions, nor a single Prince allows?To marry other than a royal spouse.
LII.
And let our England's royal House be bound?By wedlock to America. Perchance?This bond may, in a future day, be found?The first of many, which shall so enhance?Our mutual love that, by God's kindly grace,?On History's page this name shall have a place:?"THE EMPIRE OF THE ANGLO-SAXON RACE."
LIII.
Great England! Land of liberty and peace,?With fond regret I leave thy hallowed shore;?But, in my exile, I can never cease?To love the Land that I may see no more.?All foreign countries are alike to me;?My heart's affection is bound up in thee.
Blue, boundless and free, the deep-flowing sea?Environs on every side?The ship, which the gale, well-filling each sail,?Impels through the rolling tide.
Around, far and near, bright, foaming and clear,?The billows tumultuous roll;?And their message to me is, "Free, wildly free!?"Free ever from man's control!"
As round me they throng, I hear their wild song,?And 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