List when the wind in summertime is sighing,
And a wealth of verdant bloom is on the lea;
Seek the path our feet together used to wander,
And think of me.
And a wealth of verdant bloom is on the lea;
Seek the path our feet together used to wander,
And think of me.
Watch when the sunset’s tender glow of evening
Fades into twilight’s dreamy ecstasy,
And thy soul is soothed by nature’s subtle fulness,
And think of me.
Fades into twilight’s dreamy ecstasy,
And thy soul is soothed by nature’s subtle fulness,
And think of me.
And when the shadowy arms of night enfoldeth
The hills, and darken o’er the throbbing sea;
Steal tenderly out beneath the stars’ pale beaming,
And think of me.
The hills, and darken o’er the throbbing sea;
Steal tenderly out beneath the stars’ pale beaming,
And think of me.
Go when the autumn leaves are sadly falling,
And the melancholy winds appeal to thee,
And stillness broods where grass and flowers are dying,
And think of me.
And the melancholy winds appeal to thee,
And stillness broods where grass and flowers are dying,
And think of me.
And when thy soul to music’s touch is thrilling,
And thy voice repeats in tenderest melody
The songs we loved when you and I were dreaming,
And think of me.
And thy voice repeats in tenderest melody
The songs we loved when you and I were dreaming,
And think of me.
Weep when the dreary autumn rain is falling,
And sobbing winds are strewing o’er the lea
A wealth of golden leaves and pale dead flowers,
And think of me.
And sobbing winds are strewing o’er the lea
A wealth of golden leaves and pale dead flowers,
And think of me.
And when thy day of life is slowly waning
Into the mystic light of the eternity,
Call back the dreamy years of life’s glad morning,
And think of me.
Into the mystic light of the eternity,
Call back the dreamy years of life’s glad morning,
And think of me.
DULAC DES ORMEAUX; OR, THE THERMOPYLÆ OF CANADA.
Destruction menaced fair Mount Royal,
And the bravest cheek grew pale
When from the shadowy, awesome forest
Came the blood-curdling tale
That the unsparing, ferocious Iroquois
Would encompass them once more;
Twelve hundred plumed and painted warriors
Would in fury on them pour.
And the bravest cheek grew pale
When from the shadowy, awesome forest
Came the blood-curdling tale
That the unsparing, ferocious Iroquois
Would encompass them once more;
Twelve hundred plumed and painted warriors
Would in fury on them pour.
Palisaded around and bastioned,
But war-worn and wasted so,
With the pale shadow of doom upon them,
How shall they foil the dread foe?
Often, when life and its cares seem darkest,
Doth aid and guidance appear,
And the storm and the threatened danger
On the horizon disappear.
But war-worn and wasted so,
With the pale shadow of doom upon them,
How shall they foil the dread foe?
Often, when life and its cares seem darkest,
Doth aid and guidance appear,
And the storm and the threatened danger
On the horizon disappear.
Thus saved was the lovely Mount Royal
By as heroic a deed
As e’er blazon’d the page of history;
And it came in their sore need.
Noble, self-sacrificing des Ormeaux,
And sixteen fair youths so brave,
Resolved on a desperate rescue,
Their homes and country to save.
By as heroic a deed
As e’er blazon’d the page of history;
And it came in their sore need.
Noble, self-sacrificing des Ormeaux,
And sixteen fair youths so brave,
Resolved on a desperate rescue,
Their homes and country to save.
Aye, resolved though to a man they perish,
The rescue should be complete;
And prepared for the awful issue—
’Twas death, but never defeat.
Making their wills, and solemn confession,
In war’s panoply arrayed
They received the holy sacrament,
And solemnly knelt and prayed.
The rescue should be complete;
And prepared for the awful issue—
’Twas death, but never defeat.
Making their wills, and solemn confession,
In war’s panoply arrayed
They received the holy sacrament,
And solemnly knelt and prayed.
And bidding their well-beloved friends farewell,
As men who to death march away—
(Aye, and so were they, for all, all were slain
In the merciless affray).
And stemming the current of swift St. Anne,
They fearlessly launch away
O’er the sparkling Lake of Two Mountains,
Onward, by night and by day.
As men who to death march away—
(Aye, and so were they, for all, all were slain
In the merciless affray).
And stemming the current of swift St. Anne,
They fearlessly launch away
O’er the sparkling Lake of Two Mountains,
Onward, by night and by day.
And by the pass of the Long Sault Rapid,
In a redoubt deserted, old—
A mere breastwork of logs and abatis,
Covered by moss and mould—
There, with forty Hurons and Algonquins,
They took their intrepid stand,
And waited the approach of the Iroquois,
Who were very near at hand.
In a redoubt deserted, old—
A mere breastwork of logs and abatis,
Covered by moss and mould—
There, with forty Hurons and Algonquins,
They took their intrepid stand,
And waited the approach of the Iroquois,
Who were very near at hand.
The French and their red allies strengthened
Their frail post with earth and sod,
Leaving twenty loopholes for musketoons;
And, commending all to God,
They took post, prepared now and watchful
Under the All-seeing Eye,
To fight heroically for their homes,
And, if need, for them to die.
Their frail post with earth and sod,
Leaving twenty loopholes for musketoons;
And, commending all to God,
They took post, prepared now and watchful
Under the All-seeing Eye,
To fight heroically for their homes,
And, if need, for them to die.
“Hist! hist!” Dulac des Ormeaux whispered,
“Make ready the musketoons;
Hear the signal hoot of the boding owl,
And the cry of lonely loons!
’Tis the stealthy approach of the Iroquois,
Signaling their reptile advance;
Mon braves, let’s teach them what Frenchmen can do
For love and glory of France!
“Make ready the musketoons;
Hear the signal hoot of the boding owl,
And the cry of lonely loons!
’Tis the stealthy approach of the Iroquois,
Signaling their reptile advance;
Mon braves, let’s teach them what Frenchmen can do
For love and glory of France!
“Let them come, let them come, now, very near,
Then level the musketoons;
Answer thus the hoot of the boding owl,
And the cry of the lonely loons!
Hand to hand, use the halberd, sword and lance,
Make these reptiles bite the grass,
And strike as the Spartans did of old,
When Leonidas kept the pass!
Then level the musketoons;
Answer thus the hoot of the boding owl,
And the cry of the lonely loons!
Hand to hand, use the halberd, sword and lance,
Make these reptiles bite the grass,
And strike as the Spartans did of old,
When Leonidas kept the pass!
“See! through the dim and shadowy forests,
They like deadly serpents creep—
Mark the cruel light in their devilish eyes,
As our frail defence they sweep!
Steady, brothers; comrades, aim low and sure,
Let every good missile tell!
Rain sure on the malignant Iroquois
A consuming fire of hell!”
They like deadly serpents creep—
Mark the cruel light in their devilish eyes,
As our frail defence they sweep!
Steady, brothers; comrades, aim low and sure,
Let every good missile tell!
Rain sure on the malignant Iroquois
A consuming fire of hell!”
And they opened then with crash and flame,
And wild, savage cries of pain
Pierced through the roar of the musketoons;
Swift again, and yet again,
Sure volleys burst, hurling death, dismay,
The old gray redoubt around,
And the withering fire from that brave band
Struck many a red fiend down.
And wild, savage cries of pain
Pierced through the roar of the musketoons;
Swift again, and yet again,
Sure volleys burst, hurling death, dismay,
The old gray redoubt around,
And the withering fire from that brave band
Struck many a red fiend down.
For five long days the Iroquois
Swarmed around that frail redoubt,
Repulsed again, aye, and yet again.
Worn by hunger, thirst and doubt,
And want of sleep, the Frenchmen prayed,
And fought with valiant might
Through long, frightful days of carnage
And the horrors of the night.
Swarmed around that frail redoubt,
Repulsed again, aye, and yet again.
Worn by hunger, thirst and doubt,
And want of sleep, the Frenchmen prayed,
And fought with valiant might
Through long, frightful days of carnage
And the horrors of the night.
Iroquois reinforcements now arrived
And the Hurons, in dismay
At the dreadful, inevitable result,
In desertion fled away.
For three days longer seven hundred foes
Beleaguered that frail redoubt,
Defied by the score of dauntless youths,
Still barring the red fiends out
And the Hurons, in dismay
At the dreadful, inevitable result,
In desertion fled away.
For three days longer seven hundred foes
Beleaguered that frail redoubt,
Defied by the score of dauntless youths,
Still barring the red fiends out
By a ceaseless fire of the musketoons;
Keeping their post night and day
With the unyielding courage of despair,
Holding the red scourge at bay.
And, reeling in uttermost weariness,
Realizing their doom is sealed,
They can but die in the unequal strife,
But must not—no, must not yield!
Keeping their post night and day
With the unyielding courage of despair,
Holding the red scourge at bay.
And, reeling in uttermost weariness,
Realizing their doom is sealed,
They can but die in the unequal strife,
But must not—no, must not yield!
The Iroquois, covered by wooden shields,
Rushed up to the palisades;
Up swift from the river’s concealing banks,
And sheltering forest glades.
Crouching below the fire of musketoons,
They furiously cut away
Post after post of the frail palisades
That held them so long at bay.
Rushed up to the palisades;
Up swift from the river’s concealing banks,
And sheltering forest glades.
Crouching below the fire of musketoons,
They furiously cut away
Post after post of the frail palisades
That held them so long at bay.
Firing through the loops on their pent-up foes,
Tearing a breach in the walls,
They swarm within with ferocious joy;
But many a red fiend falls
By desperate sweep of the Frenchmen’s steel,
Deliv’ring lightning blows;
Asking no quarter, and receiving none,
From cruel, insatiate foes.
Tearing a breach in the walls,
They swarm within with ferocious joy;
But many a red fiend falls
By desperate sweep of the Frenchmen’s steel,
Deliv’ring lightning blows;
Asking no quarter, and receiving none,
From cruel, insatiate foes.
Thus selling their lives in a noble cause,
Not one of the French are spared;
But hundreds of unsparing Iroquois
Their gory death-bed shared.
Thus checked was the advance of the Iroquois
And Canada was saved
By as heroic an act of devotion
As war’s annals ever gave.
Not one of the French are spared;
But hundreds of unsparing Iroquois
Their gory death-bed shared.
Thus checked was the advance of the Iroquois
And Canada was saved
By as heroic an act of devotion
As war’s annals ever gave.
And the defence of the Long Sault passage
Shall nevermore fade away;
All time shall honor the heroic defence—
Canada’s Thermopylæ!
Pause, Canadians! pause by this spot—
Seek the Long Sault’s rapid flow—
Call back the famed scene enacted here
Two hundred long years ago.
Shall nevermore fade away;
All time shall honor the heroic defence—
Canada’s Thermopylæ!
Pause, Canadians! pause by this spot—
Seek the Long Sault’s rapid flow—
Call back the famed scene enacted here
Two hundred long years ago.
GOLDEN HAIR.
A head of golden hair,
With many a silken fold;
A face as beautiful as e’er
Was wrought in human mould;
An eye as blue as ever
Italia’s skies can be,
That shone as stars of heaven
In soul-lit purity;
With many a silken fold;
A face as beautiful as e’er
Was wrought in human mould;
An eye as blue as ever
Italia’s skies can be,
That shone as stars of heaven
In soul-lit purity;
A form that tranced the vision;
A matchless, perfect grace
Of a life all pure and God-like
Lighting the sweet, fair face;
A voice as low and silv’ry
As flutes at eventime,
Or trill of harps Æolian,
Tender and so divine;
A matchless, perfect grace
Of a life all pure and God-like
Lighting the sweet, fair face;
A voice as low and silv’ry
As flutes at eventime,
Or trill of harps Æolian,
Tender and so divine;
A head of golden hair,
Haunting my soul alway,
In the silent hours of dreamland,
Or blaze of noontide day.
Yet vain are all thy dreamings,
O heart! A year ago
We laid that head so golden
Under the daisies low.
Haunting my soul alway,
In the silent hours of dreamland,
Or blaze of noontide day.
Yet vain are all thy dreamings,
O heart! A year ago
We laid that head so golden
Under the daisies low.
THE CONVICT.
Frenzied by the destroying curse of drink,
In fury uncontrolled I struck him down;
The insult was bitter, and I went mad—insane—
And with one fell blow slew him, and fled the town.
In a moment I was sobered, and realized
The awful deed my savage hand had done,
And a dreadful terror on my senses fell;
Before arrest, stern punishment had begun.
In fury uncontrolled I struck him down;
The insult was bitter, and I went mad—insane—
And with one fell blow slew him, and fled the town.
In a moment I was sobered, and realized
The awful deed my savage hand had done,
And a dreadful terror on my senses fell;
Before arrest, stern punishment had begun.
Oh! the horror of that moment when I realized
That I my fellow man, once friend, had slain;
That I was lost forever and for evermore,
And my brow burned deep by the damning brand of Cain.
“Lost! lost!” I cried in agony to heaven.
Demoniac laughter on my pained ear fell—
The answer to my prayer came not from heaven;
It seemed to rise from lurid voids of hell.
That I my fellow man, once friend, had slain;
That I was lost forever and for evermore,
And my brow burned deep by the damning brand of Cain.
“Lost! lost!” I cried in agony to heaven.
Demoniac laughter on my pained ear fell—
The answer to my prayer came not from heaven;
It seemed to rise from lurid voids of hell.
Pursued, arrested, and for life condemned—
Caged as a wild beast behind bolts and bars—
The iron door closed out the world so fair,
The panoply of heaven, sun, moon, and stars;
Closed out home, mother, father, sister, brother,
And one that was so fair, and loved me so;
Broken are their hearts, because I was so dear
In the sinless happy days of long ago.
Caged as a wild beast behind bolts and bars—
The iron door closed out the world so fair,
The panoply of heaven, sun, moon, and stars;
Closed out home, mother, father, sister, brother,
And one that was so fair, and loved me so;
Broken are their hearts, because I was so dear
In the sinless happy days of long ago.
Once only was I lured by the red wine,
And joined the revel in the maddening bowl.
’Twas fatal! In that appalling direful hour
Lost was all the world, and ruined was my soul;
Forgotten was my mother’s warning, and
I saw not the pit made for unwary feet,
But past the portal and the dividing line,
My awful ruin was complete.
And joined the revel in the maddening bowl.
’Twas fatal! In that appalling direful hour
Lost was all the world, and ruined was my soul;
Forgotten was my mother’s warning, and
I saw not the pit made for unwary feet,
But past the portal and the dividing line,
My awful ruin was complete.
Stunned, and almost crazed by agony
And remorse, I wept such bitter burning tears
As come from those, all lost to earth and heaven,
Who, hopeless, brood o’er past and following years.
I prayed with awful fervency to heaven
To forgive and heal my weary, broken heart,
Appealing for the lowliest place in paradise,
That I might with the angels bear some humble part.
And remorse, I wept such bitter burning tears
As come from those, all lost to earth and heaven,
Who, hopeless, brood o’er past and following years.
I prayed with awful fervency to heaven
To forgive and heal my weary, broken heart,
Appealing for the lowliest place in paradise,
That I might with the angels bear some humble part.
I know not, but sometimes it seems to me
A pitying God will my fell deed forgive;
Will lift the grievous burden from my weary soul,
And let the suffering, forsaken sinner live.
And thus I wait behind the bars and iron door,
In gloomy corridor or stifling cell,
Suffering the nameless horrors of the damned
In this relentless, dreary, earthly hell.
A pitying God will my fell deed forgive;
Will lift the grievous burden from my weary soul,
And let the suffering, forsaken sinner live.
And thus I wait behind the bars and iron door,
In gloomy corridor or stifling cell,
Suffering the nameless horrors of the damned
In this relentless, dreary, earthly hell.
THE BATTLE OF LACOLLE MILLS.
Fought March 30th, 1814. American Force, 4,000; British and Canadian, 340.
Ten miles inland they ventured
To the “Stone Mills” at Lacolle;
Four thousand rough invaders,
Our country to control.
Canadians e’er rally quickly
When dangers thicken round,
And to duty’s call immediate
Give no uncertain sound.
To the “Stone Mills” at Lacolle;
Four thousand rough invaders,
Our country to control.
Canadians e’er rally quickly
When dangers thicken round,
And to duty’s call immediate
Give no uncertain sound.
The call was swiftly given,
And the “Stone Mills” occupied,
Loopholed and greatly strengthened,
And the enemy defied.
Of stern British and Canadians
The little force formed round;
Resolved at every hazard
To hold their vantage ground.
And the “Stone Mills” occupied,
Loopholed and greatly strengthened,
And the enemy defied.
Of stern British and Canadians
The little force formed round;
Resolved at every hazard
To hold their vantage ground.
The foe moved up on every side,
And made their grand attack;
The old walls blazed in fierce return,
And drove the proud foe back.
Three guns were now brought forward
The mill to batter down;
The “Old Stone Mill,” the good old mill,
In defiance still did frown.
And made their grand attack;
The old walls blazed in fierce return,
And drove the proud foe back.
Three guns were now brought forward
The mill to batter down;
The “Old Stone Mill,” the good old mill,
In defiance still did frown.
The gunners fell beside their guns,
So hot, so fierce the fire
The British poured upon them
To prevent them drawing nigher.
For two long hours the cannonade
Stormed at the old mill walls—
The good old mill, the brave old mill,
That totters not nor falls.
So hot, so fierce the fire
The British poured upon them
To prevent them drawing nigher.
For two long hours the cannonade
Stormed at the old mill walls—
The good old mill, the brave old mill,
That totters not nor falls.
“Ho, Voltigeurs, and brave regulars!
Form quickly side by side,
And charge the foe’s battering guns,”
The gallant Handcock cried.
And they swept across the open
Up to the cannon’s side—
Those grand soldiers’ hearts were burning,
As an army they defied.
Form quickly side by side,
And charge the foe’s battering guns,”
The gallant Handcock cried.
And they swept across the open
Up to the cannon’s side—
Those grand soldiers’ hearts were burning,
As an army they defied.
Swiftly through the infantry’s fire,
Up to the cannon’s flame,
So fearlessly they struggled,
Charged and charged again.
Those gallant men could do no more,
And they fell back fighting still,
Gaining once again the safety
Of the sheltering mill.
Up to the cannon’s flame,
So fearlessly they struggled,
Charged and charged again.
Those gallant men could do no more,
And they fell back fighting still,
Gaining once again the safety
Of the sheltering mill.
The fire was now redoubled,
The old mill blazed and roared;
A deadly hail from all the loops
Upon the foe was poured.
’Twas all too hot for Wilkinson
At Lacolle Mills that day,
And he turned about in utter rout
And swiftly fled away.
The old mill blazed and roared;
A deadly hail from all the loops
Upon the foe was poured.
’Twas all too hot for Wilkinson
At Lacolle Mills that day,
And he turned about in utter rout
And swiftly fled away.
Heroic Handcock! heroic men!
Thy mem’ry shall not die—
Canadians, join with me to-day,
And shout it to the sky!
Weave, then, a fadeless laurel wreath
For those who nobly gave
E’en life for British liberty,
And this fair land to save.
Thy mem’ry shall not die—
Canadians, join with me to-day,
And shout it to the sky!
Weave, then, a fadeless laurel wreath
For those who nobly gave
E’en life for British liberty,
And this fair land to save.
THE NINETEENTH CENTURY MAIDEN.
O radiant maiden! thou art so fair,
With thy azure eyes and thy golden hair;
The bloom of the lily and rose on thy face,
Thy sunny smile and thy exquisite grace,
The joyous light of thy innocent eyes,
Deep wells of the soul and clear as the skies;
And pure as the snow the sheen on thy brow—
O mayst thou e’er be as stainless as now.
Thy voice is as soft as the summer wind,
Thrilling, pathetic, a music divine;
And wonderful is thy power to-day,
And thy influence and thy gentle sway.
The world does homage to-day at thy feet,
A captive at will to slavery sweet.
With thy azure eyes and thy golden hair;
The bloom of the lily and rose on thy face,
Thy sunny smile and thy exquisite grace,
The joyous light of thy innocent eyes,
Deep wells of the soul and clear as the skies;
And pure as the snow the sheen on thy brow—
O mayst thou e’er be as stainless as now.
Thy voice is as soft as the summer wind,
Thrilling, pathetic, a music divine;
And wonderful is thy power to-day,
And thy influence and thy gentle sway.
The world does homage to-day at thy feet,
A captive at will to slavery sweet.
Man battles amain the vast wide world o’er;
He delves in the mines for their precious store;
For the gems of the sea, searches far and wide,
Through the rage of the storm and the rushing tide.
Aye, in every clime, and in every zone,
He struggles with might for thee and home;
Stepping bravely to battle to win thy smiles,
Fearlessly leading where the foremost files
Charge to the battery’s flash and thunder—
A hero for thee, to the world a wonder.
With the battle o’er, the victory won,
And hope beaming brightly to cheer him on;
With riches and honors and fame replete,
He seeks but to lay them down at thy feet,
E’er trusting and honoring thee, his pride,
Asking only the bliss to be at thy side.
He delves in the mines for their precious store;
For the gems of the sea, searches far and wide,
Through the rage of the storm and the rushing tide.
Aye, in every clime, and in every zone,
He struggles with might for thee and home;
Stepping bravely to battle to win thy smiles,
Fearlessly leading where the foremost files
Charge to the battery’s flash and thunder—
A hero for thee, to the world a wonder.
With the battle o’er, the victory won,
And hope beaming brightly to cheer him on;
With riches and honors and fame replete,
He seeks but to lay them down at thy feet,
E’er trusting and honoring thee, his pride,
Asking only the bliss to be at thy side.
There are to-day many wandering feet,
Reckless, despairing, and ruined complete;
Driven from the light of thy witching eyes,
They are drifting away ’neath sunless skies.
Oh, nineteenth century maiden, fair!
With thy azure eyes and thy golden hair,
Of thy subtle power beware, beware!
Drive not unheeding to ruin, despair,
Hearts that are noble, unselfish, and true,
That would all things dare, even death, for you.
Let all thy ways be e’er kindly and good;
Thus crowning thy pure gentle womanhood
With graciousness, love, and truth most wise,
Guiding men e’er safely toward the skies.
Reckless, despairing, and ruined complete;
Driven from the light of thy witching eyes,
They are drifting away ’neath sunless skies.
Oh, nineteenth century maiden, fair!
With thy azure eyes and thy golden hair,
Of thy subtle power beware, beware!
Drive not unheeding to ruin, despair,
Hearts that are noble, unselfish, and true,
That would all things dare, even death, for you.
Let all thy ways be e’er kindly and good;
Thus crowning thy pure gentle womanhood
With graciousness, love, and truth most wise,
Guiding men e’er safely toward the skies.
MUSIC.
Celestial concord of divinest sounds,
Music has solaced all the years,
Smoothed the rough road for worn and tired feet,
And lulled the grievous pain, too deep for tears.
All my days it’s been a comfort unto me,
A subtle influence, chastening all life,
Lifting up despairing hope and trust once more,
Guiding past the hidden shoals of sin and strife.
Music has solaced all the years,
Smoothed the rough road for worn and tired feet,
And lulled the grievous pain, too deep for tears.
All my days it’s been a comfort unto me,
A subtle influence, chastening all life,
Lifting up despairing hope and trust once more,
Guiding past the hidden shoals of sin and strife.
As a boy, I heard it flooding all the fields,—
Nature’s songs appealing ever unto me—
Bird lays, and the soothing winds that steal away,
And the deep, eternal murmur of the sea.
I hear it in the harmony of the night,
When stars glow in the unfathomable deep,
And when the foliage and the nodding flowers,
Alike with all the world, are wrapt in sleep.
Nature’s songs appealing ever unto me—
Bird lays, and the soothing winds that steal away,
And the deep, eternal murmur of the sea.
I hear it in the harmony of the night,
When stars glow in the unfathomable deep,
And when the foliage and the nodding flowers,
Alike with all the world, are wrapt in sleep.
I hear it in the patter of the summer rain
That freshens all and cools the thirsty ground;
And in the thunder’s reverberating roar
I hear a harmony majestic and profound.
I hear it in the tiniest rivulet
That winds its laughing way by mead and lea,
Kissing the feet of sunny emerald hills,
And the glide of mighty rivers to the sea.
That freshens all and cools the thirsty ground;
And in the thunder’s reverberating roar
I hear a harmony majestic and profound.
I hear it in the tiniest rivulet
That winds its laughing way by mead and lea,
Kissing the feet of sunny emerald hills,
And the glide of mighty rivers to the sea.
O voices! voices! singing, ever singing
In joyful, tender notes from day to day;
I hear the songs I love forever ringing—
Their echo and re-echo never dies away.
A thousand instruments seem ever playing—
Stringed instruments, reeds, lutes of sweetest tone—
Martial bands, and trumpets swelling ever,
Stir the hero, and the king upon his throne!
In joyful, tender notes from day to day;
I hear the songs I love forever ringing—
Their echo and re-echo never dies away.
A thousand instruments seem ever playing—
Stringed instruments, reeds, lutes of sweetest tone—
Martial bands, and trumpets swelling ever,
Stir the hero, and the king upon his throne!
Play on! play on! all instruments of music,
Join all your voices in the ecstasy of song,
And the deep harmony of nature blending
Will elevate and purify the world’s vast throng.
If I should march to battle, play for me
The strains that lift the shrinking, doubting soul;
And when I cross the dark and fatal current,
Sing, and the Lethean waters shall not o’er me roll.
Join all your voices in the ecstasy of song,
And the deep harmony of nature blending
Will elevate and purify the world’s vast throng.
If I should march to battle, play for me
The strains that lift the shrinking, doubting soul;
And when I cross the dark and fatal current,
Sing, and the Lethean waters shall not o’er me roll.
WATERLOO.
CHAPTER I.
Near Belgium’s gay capital, the long night through,
Paced the alert sentinel of Waterloo,
And through the lonesome watches beat the dreary rain,
While wandering winds sobbed o’er the darkened plain.
Through the chilling, dismal gloom of the boding night
Beat shadowy wings in a weird, phantom flight.
Two mighty rival hosts lay along the dank hills,
And the bosom of Europe anxiously thrills.
Dread moment uncertain, the stern fate of a day
To crown and uncrown, and sweep thousands away
To doom; impetuous youth and veteran gray
Must go down in the morrow’s desperate fray.
Paced the alert sentinel of Waterloo,
And through the lonesome watches beat the dreary rain,
While wandering winds sobbed o’er the darkened plain.
Through the chilling, dismal gloom of the boding night
Beat shadowy wings in a weird, phantom flight.
Two mighty rival hosts lay along the dank hills,
And the bosom of Europe anxiously thrills.
Dread moment uncertain, the stern fate of a day
To crown and uncrown, and sweep thousands away
To doom; impetuous youth and veteran gray
Must go down in the morrow’s desperate fray.
Sleep well, gallant hearts! Britain’s hope and stern pride,
Imperial France, ye have dared and defied.
The invincible clans of Old Scotia are there,
And the manhood of Erin, so gallant and fair;
England’s noblest and best, in quiet repose,
Resistless in battle, the dread of their foes.
Slumber on, brave, true hearts! rapt in tenderest dreams
Of Scotland’s grand highlands, and lowlands, and streams;
Of Erin’s green isle, and her rivers and rills,
Her lakes that reflect back the sunny-clad hills;
Of old England’s green lanes by meadow and vale—
Heroic, fair land! rich in romance and tale.
Noble trinity! indissoluble, beautiful, brave,
The morrow brings victory, or death and the grave.
Imperial France, ye have dared and defied.
The invincible clans of Old Scotia are there,
And the manhood of Erin, so gallant and fair;
England’s noblest and best, in quiet repose,
Resistless in battle, the dread of their foes.
Slumber on, brave, true hearts! rapt in tenderest dreams
Of Scotland’s grand highlands, and lowlands, and streams;
Of Erin’s green isle, and her rivers and rills,
Her lakes that reflect back the sunny-clad hills;
Of old England’s green lanes by meadow and vale—
Heroic, fair land! rich in romance and tale.
Noble trinity! indissoluble, beautiful, brave,
The morrow brings victory, or death and the grave.
Aye, sleep on, then, sleep on, for never again
May ye reach the old homestead! And alas, all in vain
The loved ones may anxiously wait there for you—
Their warm hearts were breaking when they bade you adieu.
But ye’re here in true manhood to guard England’s glory,
And all time shall ring with the immortal story.
May ye reach the old homestead! And alas, all in vain
The loved ones may anxiously wait there for you—
Their warm hearts were breaking when they bade you adieu.
But ye’re here in true manhood to guard England’s glory,
And all time shall ring with the immortal story.
Hark! ’tis the bugle and the slogan’s fierce cry,
Piercing the dawn e’er its gray shadows fly.
Repeat it again! how it wakens and thrills!
Ha! ’tis answered defiantly from those southern hills,
And a marshalling host in the pale dawn uprose,
The divisions of France, most gallant of foes.
Piercing the dawn e’er its gray shadows fly.
Repeat it again! how it wakens and thrills!
Ha! ’tis answered defiantly from those southern hills,
And a marshalling host in the pale dawn uprose,
The divisions of France, most gallant of foes.
But the Duke is alert, and draws up for the storm
Two lines of foot; and at intervals forms
The horse in the rear in a stern, stately array,
To calmly abide the coming affray.
The guns of the Duke frown down from the hills,
And his intrepid soul with sure confidence thrills.
His reserves are formed up near Mont St. Jean,
His centre the Brussels road is lying between;
And thus, with his grand dispositions complete,
He dares e’en the genius of Napoleon to meet.
Two lines of foot; and at intervals forms
The horse in the rear in a stern, stately array,
To calmly abide the coming affray.
The guns of the Duke frown down from the hills,
And his intrepid soul with sure confidence thrills.
His reserves are formed up near Mont St. Jean,
His centre the Brussels road is lying between;
And thus, with his grand dispositions complete,
He dares e’en the genius of Napoleon to meet.
And grand dispositions the Emperor, too, made,
And his lines of hills were sternly arrayed
With masses of infantry in contiguous lines;
And supporting columns with skill he combines
With his famous cavalry at intervals in rear,
Divisions of uhlan, dragoon, and cuirassier.
His splendid artillery crown the heights everywhere,
And for the pending struggle they coolly prepare.
With his right on Planchenoit, his left lapping Merc Braine,
An imposing front is presented. And there plain,
Near La Belle Alliance, his reserves can be seen;
The “Old Guard” and the “Young Guard” in column between
Divisions of horse, and steel-clad cuirassiers,
And the Emperor they greet with vives and cheers.
On the Charleroi road he now takes his post,
From the centre to direct this magnificent host.
A brilliant staff is there grouped by his side,
And the “soldier of destiny” beams on them in pride.
And his lines of hills were sternly arrayed
With masses of infantry in contiguous lines;
And supporting columns with skill he combines
With his famous cavalry at intervals in rear,
Divisions of uhlan, dragoon, and cuirassier.
His splendid artillery crown the heights everywhere,
And for the pending struggle they coolly prepare.
With his right on Planchenoit, his left lapping Merc Braine,
An imposing front is presented. And there plain,
Near La Belle Alliance, his reserves can be seen;
The “Old Guard” and the “Young Guard” in column between
Divisions of horse, and steel-clad cuirassiers,
And the Emperor they greet with vives and cheers.
On the Charleroi road he now takes his post,
From the centre to direct this magnificent host.
A brilliant staff is there grouped by his side,
And the “soldier of destiny” beams on them in pride.
Thus with two lines of heights, with death’s valley between,
And the calmness of summer, of meadow and stream,
Napoleon is there where his proud eagles wave,
The genius of France seeks her glory to save.
But Wellington waits where the red banners stream:
The Lion is roused by the Eagle’s fierce scream,
And like eagles they hover to fall on their prey,
Poised for the swoop, for a dread moment at bay.
And the calmness of summer, of meadow and stream,
Napoleon is there where his proud eagles wave,
The genius of France seeks her glory to save.
But Wellington waits where the red banners stream:
The Lion is roused by the Eagle’s fierce scream,
And like eagles they hover to fall on their prey,
Poised for the swoop, for a dread moment at bay.
CHAPTER II.
Dread moment! there waiting the burst of the storm;
And the bravest of hearts are anxiously torn.
Yet o’er the fierce grandeur of that famous scene
Shone the peaceful June sunlight mild and serene.
Ha! from the left of the French, in splendid array,
Comes the opening attack of the fateful day!
Downward and onward, gaily, steadily before
The batteries’ fierce flashing and opening roar!
Prince Jerome, their great leader, shouts “Forward! Avaunt!”
And presses sternly the attack on stout Hougomont.
But the position is held by intrepid souls;
Though the valor of France upon them rolls
In fiery masses, assaulting on every side,
The Guards stand firm there in unconquerable pride.
And the bravest of hearts are anxiously torn.
Yet o’er the fierce grandeur of that famous scene
Shone the peaceful June sunlight mild and serene.
Ha! from the left of the French, in splendid array,
Comes the opening attack of the fateful day!
Downward and onward, gaily, steadily before
The batteries’ fierce flashing and opening roar!
Prince Jerome, their great leader, shouts “Forward! Avaunt!”
And presses sternly the attack on stout Hougomont.
But the position is held by intrepid souls;
Though the valor of France upon them rolls
In fiery masses, assaulting on every side,
The Guards stand firm there in unconquerable pride.
All through the red carnage of that dreadful day,
They held the divisions of France at bay.
Though thundered and stormed at, and torn by balls,
They hold Hougomont with its blood-stained walls;
Though heaped and pent with Ponsonby’s gallant slain,
The gory sacrifice there hath not been in vain.
They held the divisions of France at bay.
Though thundered and stormed at, and torn by balls,
They hold Hougomont with its blood-stained walls;
Though heaped and pent with Ponsonby’s gallant slain,
The gory sacrifice there hath not been in vain.
Now tremble the hills by the bellowing thunder
Of the raging batteries, rending asunder
The grand advancing lines, or the devoted square,
And the charging squadrons, that so sorely fare
By the storms of fierce shot that around them fell,
Withering as the consuming red jaws of hell!
Of the raging batteries, rending asunder
The grand advancing lines, or the devoted square,
And the charging squadrons, that so sorely fare
By the storms of fierce shot that around them fell,
Withering as the consuming red jaws of hell!
The British right wing had been fiercely assailed,
But the desp’rate assault had signally failed.
The Emperor’s favorite move ’s now brought to play,
To pierce the Duke’s centre and hold Blucher at bay.
For this four gallant columns of infantry form,
With Kellermann’s squadrons in support of the storm,
And seventy-four field guns to rend the Duke’s squares.
None there of success or of vict’ry despairs!
Three resounding cheers for the Emperor they gave,
And for their leader Ney, “the bravest of the brave,”
And majestically descend the southern hills,
While admiration the lines of Britain thrills.
But the desp’rate assault had signally failed.
The Emperor’s favorite move ’s now brought to play,
To pierce the Duke’s centre and hold Blucher at bay.
For this four gallant columns of infantry form,
With Kellermann’s squadrons in support of the storm,
And seventy-four field guns to rend the Duke’s squares.
None there of success or of vict’ry despairs!
Three resounding cheers for the Emperor they gave,
And for their leader Ney, “the bravest of the brave,”
And majestically descend the southern hills,
While admiration the lines of Britain thrills.
Onward, right onward, with firm measured gait,
Gaily and confidently to their impending fate.
But the British guns thunder down on them once more,
Tearing and rending to their incessant roar.
But Ney gains the ridge, and the cowed Belgians fly
Disgracefully before his column’s loud cry.
But men more worthy of the name are found near,
Grim and determined, and devoid of all fear.
Gaily and confidently to their impending fate.
But the British guns thunder down on them once more,
Tearing and rending to their incessant roar.
But Ney gains the ridge, and the cowed Belgians fly
Disgracefully before his column’s loud cry.
But men more worthy of the name are found near,
Grim and determined, and devoid of all fear.
Picton! the dauntless, immortal, grand fiery soul,
Will here bar the way to the gallant, onward roll
Of Ney. He deploys two brigades into line two deep,
And prepares the swift advancing columns to sweep.
Then a deadly volley on the grand foe they pour,
Rending their proud ranks as through them it tore.
“Forward with the bayonet, charge home without fear!”
Shouts the hero, Picton, and there bursts a wild cheer
From the British line as it falls fierce on the foe,
That, confused, reels back to the valley below.
Will here bar the way to the gallant, onward roll
Of Ney. He deploys two brigades into line two deep,
And prepares the swift advancing columns to sweep.
Then a deadly volley on the grand foe they pour,
Rending their proud ranks as through them it tore.
“Forward with the bayonet, charge home without fear!”
Shouts the hero, Picton, and there bursts a wild cheer
From the British line as it falls fierce on the foe,
That, confused, reels back to the valley below.
Now the Duke hurls on them a cavalry brigade;
And, oh, the result of the wild charge they made!
Cutting down whole battalions of dismayed Gauls;
And to Picton’s proud prowess there instantly falls
Two thousand prisoners. Then charge forward once more!
To the guns, to the guns that bellow and roar!
And they reach them, and sabre the French gunners there—
And Ney’s mighty columns are filled with despair.
His supporting guns are made useless for the day,
And those valiant troopers ride proudly away.
But they ventured too far ’mid elation and cheers,
And are charged in return by Milhaud’s cuirassiers.
Blown by the desperate work they had done,
’Twas wise to decline, and the encounter to shun.
Thus Ney’s splendid attack completely failed,
Though four to one to the stern foe he assailed.
But in repelling this great attack Picton fell,
The intrepid commander all loved so well.
And Britain will hold him in remembrance dear—
Noble soldier! Britain’s hero! a soul without fear!
And, oh, the result of the wild charge they made!
Cutting down whole battalions of dismayed Gauls;
And to Picton’s proud prowess there instantly falls
Two thousand prisoners. Then charge forward once more!
To the guns, to the guns that bellow and roar!
And they reach them, and sabre the French gunners there—
And Ney’s mighty columns are filled with despair.
His supporting guns are made useless for the day,
And those valiant troopers ride proudly away.
But they ventured too far ’mid elation and cheers,
And are charged in return by Milhaud’s cuirassiers.
Blown by the desperate work they had done,
’Twas wise to decline, and the encounter to shun.
Thus Ney’s splendid attack completely failed,
Though four to one to the stern foe he assailed.
But in repelling this great attack Picton fell,
The intrepid commander all loved so well.
And Britain will hold him in remembrance dear—
Noble soldier! Britain’s hero! a soul without fear!
CHAPTER III.
Now far on the horizon the Prussians appear;
The Emperor cries, “Grouchy is coming, is near.”
This to reanimate his divisions once more,
By repeated reverses grown doubtful and sore.
The cuirassiers are advancing with Milhaud again,
And columns on the left of the Duke fall in vain.
All along the vast lines falls fast the iron rain,
And the pale dead by thousands encumber the plain.
Grand cavalry charges sweep “death’s valley” between—
Like fatal whirlwinds of wrath they glitter and gleam.
Crashing volleys from the steadfast infantry pour,
And from both lines of torn hills the guns madly roar.
Vast clouds of sulphurous smoke shroud the scene,
And the wounded by thousands in agony scream!
The Emperor cries, “Grouchy is coming, is near.”
This to reanimate his divisions once more,
By repeated reverses grown doubtful and sore.
The cuirassiers are advancing with Milhaud again,
And columns on the left of the Duke fall in vain.
All along the vast lines falls fast the iron rain,
And the pale dead by thousands encumber the plain.
Grand cavalry charges sweep “death’s valley” between—
Like fatal whirlwinds of wrath they glitter and gleam.
Crashing volleys from the steadfast infantry pour,
And from both lines of torn hills the guns madly roar.
Vast clouds of sulphurous smoke shroud the scene,
And the wounded by thousands in agony scream!
Ha! the Household Brigade meet the French Cuirassiers;
Like an avalanche they charge with three ringing cheers;
Like eagles they swoop down on that steel-clad brigade—
Oh, the flash of their sabres, and the havoc they made!
Crushed and bleeding the cuirassiers turn and fly,
Leaving squadrons of slain, and their wounded to die.
Fresh masses now attack La Haye Sainte once more;
Hougomont still resounds to the murderous roar
Of attacking lines, sacrificing thousands in vain,
For the bloodstained chateau they never shall gain.
Like an avalanche they charge with three ringing cheers;
Like eagles they swoop down on that steel-clad brigade—
Oh, the flash of their sabres, and the havoc they made!
Crushed and bleeding the cuirassiers turn and fly,
Leaving squadrons of slain, and their wounded to die.
Fresh masses now attack La Haye Sainte once more;
Hougomont still resounds to the murderous roar
Of attacking lines, sacrificing thousands in vain,
For the bloodstained chateau they never shall gain.
The Emperor now seeks to hurl a crushing blow,
And flings his cavalry en masse on the foe;
Hoping still the Duke’s grand centre to penetrate,
On the verge and vast ruin of impending fate.
The famous Kellermann directs this splendid array,
Trusting the result will decide the fate of the day.
But the Duke comprehends. See his flashing gray eyes!
From line and from columns the command swiftly flies,
“Into square! into square! across the valley again
Comes the cavalry en masse to charge us amain!
To the guns! to the guns! rend their columns asunder;
Shake the earth once again; let Napoleon wonder
What manner of men he hath met here to-day.
Keep your ranks, hold your squares in invincible array!”
Steady the clans of Scotia sound the slogan once more.
Let it stir ye as never it stirred ye before.
Let Erin’s hurrah through the storm fiercely break;
Gallant souls, whose courage even death cannot shake.
Art still calm, Britain’s sons, proudly waiting the shock?
Aye, calm and cool, though the earth doth tremble and rock;
Though rent your firm squares, and thinned your red lines,
Ye are dauntless still; on your grim faces shines
An unconquerable light, flashing everywhere,
Firm as the abiding hills, shaken not by despair.
And flings his cavalry en masse on the foe;
Hoping still the Duke’s grand centre to penetrate,
On the verge and vast ruin of impending fate.
The famous Kellermann directs this splendid array,
Trusting the result will decide the fate of the day.
But the Duke comprehends. See his flashing gray eyes!
From line and from columns the command swiftly flies,
“Into square! into square! across the valley again
Comes the cavalry en masse to charge us amain!
To the guns! to the guns! rend their columns asunder;
Shake the earth once again; let Napoleon wonder
What manner of men he hath met here to-day.
Keep your ranks, hold your squares in invincible array!”
Steady the clans of Scotia sound the slogan once more.
Let it stir ye as never it stirred ye before.
Let Erin’s hurrah through the storm fiercely break;
Gallant souls, whose courage even death cannot shake.
Art still calm, Britain’s sons, proudly waiting the shock?
Aye, calm and cool, though the earth doth tremble and rock;
Though rent your firm squares, and thinned your red lines,
Ye are dauntless still; on your grim faces shines
An unconquerable light, flashing everywhere,
Firm as the abiding hills, shaken not by despair.
Steady now, fearless hearts! See, the foe proudly comes,
Rolling on in huge masses where thunder the guns
That leap from the very earth in maddening roar.
And grape, shot and shell devastatingly tore
Through Kellermann’s vast squadrons of horse, coming on
Steadily and gallantly, though thousands had gone
Down in the awful struggle, mangled and torn,
Since the opening glory of the summer morn.
They come, they come, in magnificent array!
And the gunners from their guns are driven away.
Like a whirlwind they charge on the devoted squares
Which Kellermann hoped to have caught unawares.
But they are ready; and before their bristling steel
The imperial squadrons now stagger and reel!
Rolling on in huge masses where thunder the guns
That leap from the very earth in maddening roar.
And grape, shot and shell devastatingly tore
Through Kellermann’s vast squadrons of horse, coming on
Steadily and gallantly, though thousands had gone
Down in the awful struggle, mangled and torn,
Since the opening glory of the summer morn.
They come, they come, in magnificent array!
And the gunners from their guns are driven away.
Like a whirlwind they charge on the devoted squares
Which Kellermann hoped to have caught unawares.
But they are ready; and before their bristling steel
The imperial squadrons now stagger and reel!
Round and round those stern squares they sweep madly in vain,
Falling there thick and fast in the withering rain
Of incessant volleys, that on them ruthlessly pour
From the heroic squares that are bleeding and sore.
And those famous steel-clad warriors of France fall fast,
Smitten and riven by the hot devouring blast.
They fall back—charge forward—and repeat it again,
Till the reddened earth is pent with their gallant slain.
But at last they fly from their ruinous sore defeat,
All mangled and broken and ruined complete.
From the firm squares the gunners rush forward once more,
And again the hot guns madly thunder and roar.
Thus all Napoleon’s heavy horse at Waterloo
Was destroyed in attempts those squares to break through.
As the sea waves that rush on an iron-bound shore,
They rolled on the Duke, broke, and fled back once more.
Falling there thick and fast in the withering rain
Of incessant volleys, that on them ruthlessly pour
From the heroic squares that are bleeding and sore.
And those famous steel-clad warriors of France fall fast,
Smitten and riven by the hot devouring blast.
They fall back—charge forward—and repeat it again,
Till the reddened earth is pent with their gallant slain.
But at last they fly from their ruinous sore defeat,
All mangled and broken and ruined complete.
From the firm squares the gunners rush forward once more,
And again the hot guns madly thunder and roar.
Thus all Napoleon’s heavy horse at Waterloo
Was destroyed in attempts those squares to break through.
As the sea waves that rush on an iron-bound shore,
They rolled on the Duke, broke, and fled back once more.