 | The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") |  |
MONTGOMERY AT QUEBEC.
“Victor I will remain,
Or on the earth be slain;
Never shall she sustain
Loss to redeem me.”
Dayton's “Agincourt.”
Or on the earth be slain;
Never shall she sustain
Loss to redeem me.”
Dayton's “Agincourt.”
Spake the old soldier there,
He with the silver hair,
When his granddaughter fair
Asked with eyes glistening,
How 'twas Montgomery died,
And his arm-chair beside,
Open-mouthed, staring-eyed,
Stood her boys listening.
He with the silver hair,
When his granddaughter fair
Asked with eyes glistening,
How 'twas Montgomery died,
And his arm-chair beside,
Open-mouthed, staring-eyed,
Stood her boys listening.
678
“Ah! I remember well,
How in the fight he fell;
Memory the tale to tell
Little I miss in age—
I, though a stripling then,
Serving as one of ten
Poorly armed minute-men
Raised in the vicinage.
How in the fight he fell;
Memory the tale to tell
Little I miss in age—
I, though a stripling then,
Serving as one of ten
Poorly armed minute-men
Raised in the vicinage.
“Keeping our heart and eyes
Fixed on our enterprise,
Ready to sacrifice
Ease or life willingly,
Famished and woe-begone,
Marching at peep o' dawn,
Where the storm sweeping on
Smote our forms chillingly.
Fixed on our enterprise,
Ready to sacrifice
Ease or life willingly,
Famished and woe-begone,
Marching at peep o' dawn,
Where the storm sweeping on
Smote our forms chillingly.
“Then ere the morning light
Climbing the rocky height,
Feeling no dastard fright
At their outnumbering,
Ranged on the plain we stood,
Near where in watchful mood—
Grim was their quietude—
Foemen unslumbering.
Climbing the rocky height,
Feeling no dastard fright
At their outnumbering,
Ranged on the plain we stood,
Near where in watchful mood—
Grim was their quietude—
Foemen unslumbering.
“Idle our work and sad,
With the poor tools we had—
Six-pounders old and bad,
Iron pellets scattering;
Vainly our weak attack
Fell on the ramparts black;
Fierce came their volleys back,
Riving and shattering.
With the poor tools we had—
Six-pounders old and bad,
Iron pellets scattering;
Vainly our weak attack
Fell on the ramparts black;
Fierce came their volleys back,
Riving and shattering.
679
“Sternly our leader calls:
‘Useless the cannon-balls!
Forward to scale the walls!
Follow me steadily!
Then to the Prescott Gate,
Where the foe lay in wait,
Pressing to meet our fate,
On we swept readily.
‘Useless the cannon-balls!
Forward to scale the walls!
Follow me steadily!
Then to the Prescott Gate,
Where the foe lay in wait,
Pressing to meet our fate,
On we swept readily.
“Soon through the driving snow
Saw we a block-house low,
Seeming in fog to flow,
Ghost-like and quivering,
Whence the foe, roused to ire,
Poured forth their battle-fire,
Bearing destruction dire,
Death-bolts delivering.
Saw we a block-house low,
Seeming in fog to flow,
Ghost-like and quivering,
Whence the foe, roused to ire,
Poured forth their battle-fire,
Bearing destruction dire,
Death-bolts delivering.
“Down fell our leader then,
Never to rise again;
Lost was the battle when
He lost control of it:
All that we would have done,
All that we might have won,
Shrunk to a skeleton;
Fled was the soul of it!”
Never to rise again;
Lost was the battle when
He lost control of it:
All that we would have done,
All that we might have won,
Shrunk to a skeleton;
Fled was the soul of it!”
Then the granddaughter said,
Bowing in grief her head,
While the quick tears she shed
Coursed her cheeks mournfully:
“Ah! that in all his pride
Thus the young hero died!”
But the old soldier cried,
Sternly and scornfully:
Bowing in grief her head,
While the quick tears she shed
Coursed her cheeks mournfully:
“Ah! that in all his pride
Thus the young hero died!”
But the old soldier cried,
Sternly and scornfully:
680
“Weep not for him to-day!
Better thus pass away
Than a base part to play
Here in life's mummery.
Better when duty calls
Fall as a hero falls,
As at the city walls
Fell our Montgomery!”
Better thus pass away
Than a base part to play
Here in life's mummery.
Better when duty calls
Fall as a hero falls,
As at the city walls
Fell our Montgomery!”
| The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | |