قراءة كتاب The Song of the Exile—A Canadian Epic
تنويه: تعرض هنا نبذة من اول ١٠ صفحات فقط من الكتاب الالكتروني، لقراءة الكتاب كاملا اضغط على الزر “اشتر الآن"
اللغة: English
الصفحة رقم: 7
appear a mockery
To him who soon would meet eternity.[C]
XXII.
And who will blame him if his thought recurred,
At such a time, to England and the maid
Beloved, to whom he gave his plighted word
Ere parting? Who will wonder at the shade
Of sorrow darkling on his troubled brow,
As he reflects on what may not be now?
At such a time, to England and the maid
Beloved, to whom he gave his plighted word
Ere parting? Who will wonder at the shade
Of sorrow darkling on his troubled brow,
As he reflects on what may not be now?
XXIII.
A vision bright, of home and happiness,
Of calm domestic joy, before him lies.
One moment gazes he—his hands hard press
His forehead, and the hardy soldier sighs—
One moment only, then he turns away,
Prepared to lead his army to the fray.
Of calm domestic joy, before him lies.
One moment gazes he—his hands hard press
His forehead, and the hardy soldier sighs—
One moment only, then he turns away,
Prepared to lead his army to the fray.
XXIV.
Below the city, anchored by the shore,
The fleet is floating; and in silent speed,
The soldiers land, Wolfe leading in the fore.
And, if of urging there were any need,
His fearless mien and proud determination
Would banish every thought of hesitation.
The fleet is floating; and in silent speed,
The soldiers land, Wolfe leading in the fore.
And, if of urging there were any need,
His fearless mien and proud determination
Would banish every thought of hesitation.
XXV.
But fear is foreign to each noble heart
That follows him, and in the breast of none
Has doubt or hesitation any part;
Let him but lead, and they will follow on.
They listen to his orders and obey;
He fears not death or danger—why should they?
That follows him, and in the breast of none
Has doubt or hesitation any part;
Let him but lead, and they will follow on.
They listen to his orders and obey;
He fears not death or danger—why should they?
XXVI.
Above them tow'rs the cliff precipitous,
Well-nigh impassable its steep ascent.
How hard the task and how laborious
To scale the cliff! Yet forth the order went.
Then, in the darkness, stealthily they creep,
And silently approach the rocky steep.
Well-nigh impassable its steep ascent.
How hard the task and how laborious
To scale the cliff! Yet forth the order went.
Then, in the darkness, stealthily they creep,
And silently approach the rocky steep.
XXVII.
Like Indians soft stealing on the trail
Of hated foes, intent upon surprise,
And silent moving lest their project fail,
When death in premature detection lies;
So noiselessly that army scaled the height,
While darkness hid them from the foemen's sight.
Of hated foes, intent upon surprise,
And silent moving lest their project fail,
When death in premature detection lies;
So noiselessly that army scaled the height,
While darkness hid them from the foemen's sight.
XXVIII.
At length they reach the summit unattacked,
Then form, and silent march upon the plain.
And now they learn the foe has seen their act,
For onward towards them comes his shining train.
The day has broke, the sun now brightly shines,
And each can plainly see the other's lines.
Then form, and silent march upon the plain.
And now they learn the foe has seen their act,
For onward towards them comes his shining train.
The day has broke, the sun now brightly shines,
And each can plainly see the other's lines.
XXIX.
Then from the French battalions comes the fire
Of musketry, and bullets hissing loud
Pierce through the English ranks, yet but inspire
The veterans to vengeance, and their blood
Boils in their veins. Yet silently they still
March on, awaiting their commander's will.
Of musketry, and bullets hissing loud
Pierce through the English ranks, yet but inspire
The veterans to vengeance, and their blood
Boils in their veins. Yet silently they still
March on, awaiting their commander's will.
XXX.
At length is heard the general's command
To fire. A fearful volley from their ranks
Then belches forth, and, sweeping o'er the land,
The bullets carry ruin to the Franks.
In deep dismay the Frenchmen hesitate
One moment; then, with valour desperate,
To fire. A fearful volley from their ranks
Then belches forth, and, sweeping o'er the land,
The bullets carry ruin to the Franks.
In deep dismay the Frenchmen hesitate
One moment; then, with valour desperate,
XXXI.
They turn again, restrengthened, to the fight.
But fruitless all the bravery they show;
Repulsed anew, ere long they take to flight,
Pursued by English bullets as they go.
And from the time the battle first begun,
But fifteen minutes passed till it was won.
But fruitless all the bravery they show;
Repulsed anew, ere long they take to flight,
Pursued by English bullets as they go.
And from the time the battle first begun,
But fifteen minutes passed till it was won.
XXXII.
But deadly was the devastation wrought
On either side, and dearly was the day
Of glory by the English army bought.
Thrice bullet-pierced their young commander lay.
He lived to hear the cry of victory,
Then yielded up his spirit willingly.
On either side, and dearly was the day
Of glory by the English army bought.
Thrice bullet-pierced their young commander lay.
He lived to hear the cry of victory,
Then yielded up his spirit willingly.
XXXIII.
Good reason had the conquerors to mourn;
Yet had the vanquished greater cause than they.
The day was lost, and sadly had they borne
Their leader from the battle-field away.
Beloved Montcalm, the generous and brave,
Upon that field had found a bloody grave.
Yet had the vanquished greater cause than they.
The day was lost, and sadly had they borne
Their leader from the battle-field away.
Beloved Montcalm, the generous and brave,
Upon that field had found a bloody grave.
And what of her who sat in silent grief,
And listened vainly for the step of him
Whose coming only could afford relief,
And stay the tears in which her eyes will swim?
Ah! History has nought to say of her,
Nor speaks it of the sorrow she must bear.
And listened vainly for the step of him
Whose coming only could afford relief,
And stay the tears in which her eyes will swim?
Ah! History has nought to say of her,
Nor speaks it of the sorrow she must bear.
XXXV.
The full extent of war's resulting curse
Is never known: the country's gain or loss
Is reckoned by its victory or reverse,
The dead are numbered—but the heavy cross
Of suffering, which womankind must bear,
Is reckoned not among the deeds of war.
Is never known: the country's gain or loss
Is reckoned by its victory or reverse,
The dead are numbered—but the heavy cross
Of suffering, which womankind must bear,
Is reckoned not among the deeds of war.
XXXVI.
Nor can it be: while war is arbiter
Between the nations, private suffering
Must count for nought; affection must defer
Between the nations, private suffering
Must count for nought; affection must defer