 | The death of General Montgomery, in storming the city of Quebec |  |
SCENE I.
Macpherson and Cheesman.Cheesman.
The hour is dreary, and all Nature dark;
But yet, Macpherson, there is something more,
In melancholy, and a mind o'ercast:
In this presentiment of some sad chance,
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And is not cowardice, but God himself,
That in the knowledge, of the future ill,
Doth touch the mind, with apprehension strange,
And feeling sensible of its approach.
You see Macpherson, I am gayly dress'd.
Say, is it pride of the departing soul,
That one would chuse, to have the body fair,
And vestured in comely, decent garb,
E'en, when it lies, yet tombless, on the field?
Or is it hope, that thus the victor foe,
May feel a kinder thought, and shed one tear,
While it surveys the body trim and neat,
By their own hand, of the sweet life bereft?
Here is a purse, my brother, some small gold,
Which found upon me, by the ruthless search,
Of plundering soldiery, in quest of spoil,
May pay for burial, should I fall this day,
In this attempt, upon Quebec's high walls.
Haply, for sake of this, they may forbear,
To treat my pale corpse with indignant rage,
To dogs, and fowls of Heaven, casting it,
Or to the beasts, and mountain wolves, a prey.
Macpherson.
O gentle Cheesman, such prophetic touch,
On the warm casement of the busy mind,
Doth oft forewarn with certainty, and oft,
Is but illusion, and the fancy's dream:
But be it so, that death should be our lot,
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For that rich ever-green, of peerless praise,
Which they receive, who for their country die
The ev'ning past, when first the twilight grey,
With sober step, came o'er the western hills,
In meditation, to that spot I came,
Where, the victorious Wolfe, in battle fell.
There as I stood, profound in mighty thought,
It seem'd to me, a consecrated ground,
Not to be trod on with unholy feet.
I lov'd the laurel bush that grew just by,
And, could have kiss'd the stones, that round about,
Lay scatter'd on the soil; so much the worth,
And praise of this great man, intranced me,
In pleasing reverie. O, thought I then,
One day, it may be mine, in the green earth,
To lie, while the young warrior, visiting,
The solitary spot, shall bless my fame,
And say, Macpherson, I could die with you.
For my ambition, is to die like Wolfe,
Wept by his country, and by many a bard,
Of silver-tongue, high storied in his urn.
Cheesman.
Come then my brother, let one lost embrace,
Seal up our souls, in expectation firm,
To the fair bliss above. One soft embrace,
And bid farewell—with this sweet chearing hope,
That if we fall, and leave the earth to day,
Our names shall live, and with immortal Wolfe,
And the ennobled of the future world,
Be ever mentioned, and prais'd in song.
It is remarked by critics on the poet Homer, that the courage of his favourite Achilles appears in the highest point of view, from this circumstance, that though it was foretold by the oracle, that he was to fall at the siege of Troy, yet he had the bravery to engage in that expedition, and in every attack, led the van of his countrymen.
| The death of General Montgomery, in storming the city of Quebec | |