 | The New Brunswick Poems of Jonathan Odell |  |
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Poems of Public Life
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ON SEEING THE ADDRESS TO THE SHIP AMERICA IN WHICH GOVERNOR CARLETON AND HIS FAMILY EMBARK FOR ENGLAND
With HAZEN'S prayer, so well express'd,And, though to fabled Names address'd,
Yet meant to One Great Power Divine,
Accept, fair Ship, and mingle mine.
O may that Power, whose awful sway
Contending Elements obey,
With Western Breezes sweep the Sea,
To clear a smiling path for thee!
Yet, while he chacks the raging main,
Let not a placid sameness reign,
But let Parental Joy perceive
The changing Scene, from Morn to Eve,
From Eve to Morn of every day,
New wonders of the Deep display,
To fill the young enquiring Sight
With fresh Surprise and fresh Delight.
“Look EMMA, for your Infant Eye,
Had learn'd no objects to descry,
Beyond the Space that Shelter gave
To cradle you across the wave,
When, destin'd first abroad to roam,
You reach'd yon temporary Home;
Look Anne, who in this Western world
First saw the light;—See how, unfurl'd,
The swelling sail its bosom fills
With Breezes from the lessening Hills;
And while her wings the Vessel speed,
See how those lessening Hills recede!
The craggy mount, whose frowning Brow
Is honor'd with the name of Howe,
No longer shows the Banner spread
Which lately mark'd his lofty head.
Now can the straining Eye no more
Discern the windings of the Shore;
The Landscape seems to sink away,
And leave the Sun's declining Ray,
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Until, his burning Orb to lave,
Beyond the bending Western Steep,
He slowly glides into the Deep.”
And here—when Evening, which now lights on high
The starry Vault, and Morning, which comes round,
Shall of this Voiage measure the first day,—
O! had I Milton's Voice, to summon forth,
In apt Succession, daily to appear,
And daily to diversify the Scene,
Such Natives of the main, as, whether oft
Or seldom, have to man's intrepid eye,
In various tracts of Ocean's wide Domain,
Their various forms and characters displayed;—
These all, by turns, or in well-mingled throngs,
As best the occasion might befit, should come,
(If happly at my bidding they would come)
Round thee to play, and do thy Passengers
Mute homage and fantastic gratulation.
But hold—nor let my lips profane
Attempt this lofty hallowed strain;
Hallowed in Eden's blissful Seat
And on the Tempter's last defeat.
Disclaiming then the Poet's Art,
Let me the wishes of my heart
Briefly express:------
------Let CARLETON come,
Attended as he goes, from home,
With happy Omens, back to share,
For us a gracious Monarch's care,
Leaving that Monarch's Realm in Peace,
With wealth and Glory's rich increase,
Triumphant o'er his foes!—and then,
I hope, with tuneful voice, again
To lure sweet Echo from her Cave,
And welcome Carleton, while a brave
And Loyal People loudly Sing
“Welcome CARLETON! and GOD Save the KING!”
1803
5
THE VACANT HOUSE
Whence this emotion? Why, on entering here,
Do I recoil, as with a sudden fear?
In silence as I pass, from room to room,
Why am I conscious of this pensive gloom?
Say, gentle Spirit of the ethereal race,
Thou tutelary Genius of the place,
Sole inmate now, though present yet unseen,
Am I infested with prophetic Spleen?
Or can it be thy warning Voice I hear,
Whispering alarm to Fancy's jealous ear?
It seems, by turns, to rise and die away,
And this burden of the mystic Lay—
“Shall they return, whose absence we bewail?
“Fond hope!—or must our vows and wishes fail?
Do I recoil, as with a sudden fear?
In silence as I pass, from room to room,
Why am I conscious of this pensive gloom?
Say, gentle Spirit of the ethereal race,
Thou tutelary Genius of the place,
Sole inmate now, though present yet unseen,
Am I infested with prophetic Spleen?
Or can it be thy warning Voice I hear,
Whispering alarm to Fancy's jealous ear?
It seems, by turns, to rise and die away,
And this burden of the mystic Lay—
“Shall they return, whose absence we bewail?
“Fond hope!—or must our vows and wishes fail?
Thus restless Mortals covet to descry
Tomorrow's destiny, for every eye
Wisely conceal'd. Ah, rather thank High Heaven
For blindness to the future kindly given!
Tomorrow's destiny, for every eye
Wisely conceal'd. Ah, rather thank High Heaven
For blindness to the future kindly given!
In youth, enamour'd of the Muse, I paid
My ardent vows in her sequester'd Shade;
Nor did She with disdain repay my Suit,
Or to my Search refuse her treasur'd fruit.
The charms of Science and the liberal Arts
For softer charms prepare ingenuous hearts.
Now smiling Love “his golden Shafts employed,”
And all was joy, unbounded, unalloy'd.
My ardent vows in her sequester'd Shade;
Nor did She with disdain repay my Suit,
Or to my Search refuse her treasur'd fruit.
The charms of Science and the liberal Arts
For softer charms prepare ingenuous hearts.
Now smiling Love “his golden Shafts employed,”
And all was joy, unbounded, unalloy'd.
Suspecting no reverse, I thus had seen
Five Summers pass, unclouded and serene;
When o'er the blackening Sky a Storm arose,
Which soon destroyed my Mansion of repose,
And fierce Rebellion drove me from the Shore,
Which I was destin'd to behold no more.
From Anna far, and from her Infant train,
Nine years exil'd, my heart endur'd the pain
Of hope deferr'd; a hope in vain renew'd;
By zeal supported, but by this Fate subdued!
Then, in a Carleton's kind protecting care,
I found, at last, a refuge from despair.
O England! why recall him from the field,
Just when Rebellion was prepared to yield?
But History, to a more impartial Age,
Must yet refer this dark discolour'd page.
He took me from the Wreck, dispell'd my fear,
And plac'd me in a safe Asylum here.
Here, with the remnant of a loyal Band,
Under a Second Carleton's mild command,
My alienated native Land forgot,
I have till now enjoyed a happy lot.
And if my Bark, by some unlook'ed-for blast,
Must yet again upon the Rocks be cast,
Let me at least avoid one shallow Reef,
The unhallowed bitterness of hopeless grief.
Five Summers pass, unclouded and serene;
When o'er the blackening Sky a Storm arose,
Which soon destroyed my Mansion of repose,
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Which I was destin'd to behold no more.
From Anna far, and from her Infant train,
Nine years exil'd, my heart endur'd the pain
Of hope deferr'd; a hope in vain renew'd;
By zeal supported, but by this Fate subdued!
Then, in a Carleton's kind protecting care,
I found, at last, a refuge from despair.
O England! why recall him from the field,
Just when Rebellion was prepared to yield?
But History, to a more impartial Age,
Must yet refer this dark discolour'd page.
He took me from the Wreck, dispell'd my fear,
And plac'd me in a safe Asylum here.
Here, with the remnant of a loyal Band,
Under a Second Carleton's mild command,
My alienated native Land forgot,
I have till now enjoyed a happy lot.
And if my Bark, by some unlook'ed-for blast,
Must yet again upon the Rocks be cast,
Let me at least avoid one shallow Reef,
The unhallowed bitterness of hopeless grief.
But as the destin'd hour must now be near,
When I shall enter on a new career,
To you, my only Patrons upon earth,
Brothers no less in virtue than by birth,
To you I turn, and, with a heart impress'd
With memory of the past, I yet request
Your generous aid; complete what you've begun;
Extend your kind protection to my Son!
When I shall enter on a new career,
To you, my only Patrons upon earth,
Brothers no less in virtue than by birth,
To you I turn, and, with a heart impress'd
With memory of the past, I yet request
Your generous aid; complete what you've begun;
Extend your kind protection to my Son!
1804
7
THE DROOPING ROSE
June 1806
Sweet Rose, look up, thy Season comes at last;
Fierce Aquile hath spent his chilling blast,
And every Monument of Winter's power
Melts in the Western Breeze and Vernal Shower.
Sweet Rose, thy Season comes, and comes to bring
The welcome period of no common Spring.
Fierce Aquile hath spent his chilling blast,
And every Monument of Winter's power
Melts in the Western Breeze and Vernal Shower.
Sweet Rose, thy Season comes, and comes to bring
The welcome period of no common Spring.
Thrice has yon River burst his icy chain,
And spread his annual tribute o'er the plain,
Diffusing, from his rich and swelling tide,
The Seeds of future plenty far and wide;
While here, forsaken it has been thy lot
“To blush unseen,” and in this charming spot,
To mourn the want of Emma's fostering care,
And “waste thy sweetness on the desert air.”
But now, sweet Rose, look up. This joyless doom
No more awaits thy renovated bloom.
His task again, see, faithful Nichols plies;
Again this spot attracts admiring eyes,
And they, whose absence we so long bewail,
Bespeak fair Winds to swell the lofty Sail,
And speed their passage home.
And spread his annual tribute o'er the plain,
Diffusing, from his rich and swelling tide,
The Seeds of future plenty far and wide;
While here, forsaken it has been thy lot
“To blush unseen,” and in this charming spot,
To mourn the want of Emma's fostering care,
And “waste thy sweetness on the desert air.”
But now, sweet Rose, look up. This joyless doom
No more awaits thy renovated bloom.
His task again, see, faithful Nichols plies;
Again this spot attracts admiring eyes,
And they, whose absence we so long bewail,
Bespeak fair Winds to swell the lofty Sail,
And speed their passage home.
But is it home?
Can it, alas, be so to them who come
From England hither? Or, as hence they went,
Can they return, with joy and gay content?
Can it, alas, be so to them who come
From England hither? Or, as hence they went,
Can they return, with joy and gay content?
Yes—When a sense of duty intervenes,
Virtue will gladly quit the splendid Scenes
Of pomp and pleasure, still secure to find
In every place, that “Sunshine of the Mind,”
That self-approv'd Serenity of Soul,
Which tempers every clime from pole to pole,
And turns the World in all its ample round,
For England's progeny, to English ground.
Virtue will gladly quit the splendid Scenes
Of pomp and pleasure, still secure to find
In every place, that “Sunshine of the Mind,”
That self-approv'd Serenity of Soul,
Which tempers every clime from pole to pole,
And turns the World in all its ample round,
For England's progeny, to English ground.
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Then droop no more, sweet Rose; they come, they come!
Here to enjoy again the sweets of home;
Pure joys, which hallow the domestic spot;
Pleasures which, tasted once, are ne'er forgot.
Sweet Rose, they come, for whose return, the sighs
And prayers of anxious thousands daily rise.
O may propitious breezes waft them o'er
With speed and safety to this Western Shore,
Where loyal thousands with impatience burn
To hail the Jubilee of their Return.
Here to enjoy again the sweets of home;
Pure joys, which hallow the domestic spot;
Pleasures which, tasted once, are ne'er forgot.
Sweet Rose, they come, for whose return, the sighs
And prayers of anxious thousands daily rise.
O may propitious breezes waft them o'er
With speed and safety to this Western Shore,
Where loyal thousands with impatience burn
To hail the Jubilee of their Return.
POSTSCRIPT 1808
Thus did the Sylvan Muse, to Hill and Dale,
Gaily proclaim her visionary tale.
The pleasing Prospect, which had been so long
The prompter and the burden of her Song,
Now vanish'd, like the forms of dusky light
Which fill the peering eye of Second-Sight.
In vain the song. In vain did thousands burn,
Impatient for the prophesied Return.
But—though denied that wish of every heart,
Another Boon was destined to impart
A joy as universal as the grief,
Which all had suffered for an absent Chief.
Permitting him, for years of Service past
In honor'd leisure to repose at last,
The Royal Will a new Career ordains,
And to a chosen Hand commits the Reins.
Gaily proclaim her visionary tale.
The pleasing Prospect, which had been so long
The prompter and the burden of her Song,
Now vanish'd, like the forms of dusky light
Which fill the peering eye of Second-Sight.
In vain the song. In vain did thousands burn,
Impatient for the prophesied Return.
But—though denied that wish of every heart,
Another Boon was destined to impart
A joy as universal as the grief,
Which all had suffered for an absent Chief.
Permitting him, for years of Service past
In honor'd leisure to repose at last,
The Royal Will a new Career ordains,
And to a chosen Hand commits the Reins.
With ardour the Patrician Board unites
In due performance of the solemn rites
To them assigned; and all, with hearts elate,
See Hunter seated in the Chair of State.
A tribute of unfeign'd esteem they pay
And joyfully record the auspicious day.
Responsive acclamation spreads around,
And, mingling with the Trumpet's silver sound,
To Heaven ascends, and Hills and Vallies ring
With the loud anthem of God save the King!
In due performance of the solemn rites
To them assigned; and all, with hearts elate,
See Hunter seated in the Chair of State.
A tribute of unfeign'd esteem they pay
And joyfully record the auspicious day.
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And, mingling with the Trumpet's silver sound,
To Heaven ascends, and Hills and Vallies ring
With the loud anthem of God save the King!
Again released from Winter's breath so keen,
Awake, sweet Rose, no more to blush unseen,
But—sure to please, imbibe the genial dew,
And spread thy bounties to Miranda's view.
Devote thy bloom to her,—whose meekness awes
The tongue that fain would blazon her applause.
To her display thy charms, who is alone
Regardless or unconscious of her own.
Awake, sweet Rose, no more to blush unseen,
But—sure to please, imbibe the genial dew,
And spread thy bounties to Miranda's view.
Devote thy bloom to her,—whose meekness awes
The tongue that fain would blazon her applause.
To her display thy charms, who is alone
Regardless or unconscious of her own.
The desert mansion, which so long had been
All solitude without, all gloom within,
Of whispering sprights no longer the Retreat,
But of domestic joy once more the Seat,
Resumes its wonted aspect, and displays
The gay festivity of former days.
Fresh Verdure decks the Lawn and tufted trees;
The blooming terrace courts the western breeze;
Calmly the River glides majestic by;
And yonder Landscape charms the unwearied eye.
From distant pilgrimage the Martins come
To nestle in their temporary home.
What joy the chirping Travellers express
Their hospitable cells to repossess!
And soon, returning from their southern flight,
Shall come the Birds of Lincoln, with delight
To join the feather'd tribes who winter here,
And all, in sprightly chorus, sweet and clear,
Warble their amorous Notes and hail the Scene,
Where all is cheerful, tranquil and serene.
All solitude without, all gloom within,
Of whispering sprights no longer the Retreat,
But of domestic joy once more the Seat,
Resumes its wonted aspect, and displays
The gay festivity of former days.
Fresh Verdure decks the Lawn and tufted trees;
The blooming terrace courts the western breeze;
Calmly the River glides majestic by;
And yonder Landscape charms the unwearied eye.
From distant pilgrimage the Martins come
To nestle in their temporary home.
What joy the chirping Travellers express
Their hospitable cells to repossess!
And soon, returning from their southern flight,
Shall come the Birds of Lincoln, with delight
To join the feather'd tribes who winter here,
And all, in sprightly chorus, sweet and clear,
Warble their amorous Notes and hail the Scene,
Where all is cheerful, tranquil and serene.
1806; 1808
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TO THE MEMORY OF LORD NELSON
Tho' envied and hated by Tyrants and Slaves,
Britannia fair Queen of the Ocean remains.
Repell'd by her Ramparts, that float on the Waves,
War flies from her Borders and Want from her plains.
For Ages renown'd,
By Victory crown'd,
Her Tars have display'd an invincible train.
Surpass'd by no other,
Each rivals his brother,
And all prove their title as Lords of the Main.
Lords of the Main! Aye, Lords of the Main,
The Tars of Old England are Lords of the Main.
Britannia fair Queen of the Ocean remains.
Repell'd by her Ramparts, that float on the Waves,
War flies from her Borders and Want from her plains.
For Ages renown'd,
By Victory crown'd,
Her Tars have display'd an invincible train.
Surpass'd by no other,
Each rivals his brother,
And all prove their title as Lords of the Main.
Lords of the Main! Aye, Lords of the Main,
The Tars of Old England are Lords of the Main.
This Charter, descending from Heroes of old,
Expands in Succession as Ages roll on,
A Climax of Glory! But oh, can it hold?
Who shall rival the past, now that Nelson is gone!
Yet hark, from on High,
The angelic reply:
“Your Nelson shall conquer and triumph again.
Each Tar shall inherit
A Share of his Spirit,
And all prove incincible Lords of the Main.
Lords of the Main! Aye, Lords of the Main,
The Tars of Old England are Lords of the Main.
Expands in Succession as Ages roll on,
A Climax of Glory! But oh, can it hold?
Who shall rival the past, now that Nelson is gone!
Yet hark, from on High,
The angelic reply:
“Your Nelson shall conquer and triumph again.
Each Tar shall inherit
A Share of his Spirit,
And all prove incincible Lords of the Main.
Lords of the Main! Aye, Lords of the Main,
The Tars of Old England are Lords of the Main.
Wherever your far-dreaded Sails are unfurl'd,
The Genius of Nelson shall fight by your Side,
And teach you again to astonish the World,
By deeds unexampled, achievements untried.
Then Britons strike home!
For Ages to come
Your Nelson shall conquer and triumph again,
Each Tar shall inherit
A Share of his Spirit,
And all prove invincible Lords of the Main.”
Lords of the Main! Aye, Lords of the Main,
The Tars of Old England are Lords of the Main.
The Genius of Nelson shall fight by your Side,
And teach you again to astonish the World,
By deeds unexampled, achievements untried.
Then Britons strike home!
For Ages to come
Your Nelson shall conquer and triumph again,
Each Tar shall inherit
A Share of his Spirit,
And all prove invincible Lords of the Main.”
Lords of the Main! Aye, Lords of the Main,
The Tars of Old England are Lords of the Main.
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Nor are we alone in the noble career;
The Soldier partakes of the generous flame.
To Glory he marches, to Glory we steer;
Between us we share the rich harvest of fame.
Recorded on High,
Their names never die,
Whose deeds the renown of their Country sustain.
The King! then, God bless him!
The World shall confess him,
The Lord of those Men who are Lords of the Main.
Lords of the Main, Aye Lords of the Main;
The Tars of Old England are Lords of the Main.
The Soldier partakes of the generous flame.
To Glory he marches, to Glory we steer;
Between us we share the rich harvest of fame.
Recorded on High,
Their names never die,
Whose deeds the renown of their Country sustain.
The King! then, God bless him!
The World shall confess him,
The Lord of those Men who are Lords of the Main.
Lords of the Main, Aye Lords of the Main;
The Tars of Old England are Lords of the Main.
1806
SONG FOR THE 4TH OF JUNE 1808
Though Storm and Tempest shake the World,
And spread despair from Realm to Realm,
Still are our dreaded Sails unfurl'd,
And British Valour holds the Helm.
Rule, Britannia, rule the waves,
And defy the rage of Slaves.
And spread despair from Realm to Realm,
Still are our dreaded Sails unfurl'd,
And British Valour holds the Helm.
Rule, Britannia, rule the waves,
And defy the rage of Slaves.
While Gallia's fierce Usurper drives
His flaming Car o'er falling States,
Though leagued with Hell, in vain he strives
To come within thy peaceful Gates.
Rule, Britannia, rule the waves,
Secure against invading Slaves.
His flaming Car o'er falling States,
Though leagued with Hell, in vain he strives
To come within thy peaceful Gates.
Rule, Britannia, rule the waves,
Secure against invading Slaves.
For crimes and follies unatton'd,
See thrones and altars round thee blaze;
But still, in loyal hearts enthron'd,
A Patriot King thy Sceptre sways.
Rule, Britannia, rule the waves,
The dread of Tyrants leagued with Slaves.
See thrones and altars round thee blaze;
But still, in loyal hearts enthron'd,
A Patriot King thy Sceptre sways.
Rule, Britannia, rule the waves,
The dread of Tyrants leagued with Slaves.
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Secure in Heaven's approving Smile,
The loyal truth its aim attains,
For thee and for thy Sister Isle
Her throne fair Freedom still maintains.
Rule, Britannia, rule the waves,
The Ency of despairing Slaves.
The loyal truth its aim attains,
For thee and for thy Sister Isle
Her throne fair Freedom still maintains.
Rule, Britannia, rule the waves,
The Ency of despairing Slaves.
Then, oft as this auspicious day
Fresh joy to Sons of Freedom brings,
Let Love and Duty join to pay
Their tribute to the best of Kings!
Rule, Britannia, rule the waves;
From tyrant Arts to rescue Slaves.
Fresh joy to Sons of Freedom brings,
Let Love and Duty join to pay
Their tribute to the best of Kings!
Rule, Britannia, rule the waves;
From tyrant Arts to rescue Slaves.
1808
SONG FOR THE 104TH
For the Hundred and Fourth, let the Muses entwine,
An unfading wreath from New-Brunswick Pine:
On Ocean transplanted, aloft it displays,
That Flag which the proudest of nations dismays;
Hence a wreath from this cloud piercing Pine shall proclaim,
A Brave Competition
The Soldier's Ambition,
To rival the Lords of the Ocean in fame.
An unfading wreath from New-Brunswick Pine:
On Ocean transplanted, aloft it displays,
That Flag which the proudest of nations dismays;
Hence a wreath from this cloud piercing Pine shall proclaim,
A Brave Competition
The Soldier's Ambition,
To rival the Lords of the Ocean in fame.
Belov'd by Apollo, the Laurel has long
Deck'd the brows of the Hero, and bloom'd in his song:
But Daphne shall now in a Chaplet combine,
Her bright polished leaf with a tuft from the Pine:
Far and near, like a Trumpet, my song shall proclaim,
The Brave Competition,
A Soldier's Ambition,
To rival the Lords of the Ocean in fame.
Deck'd the brows of the Hero, and bloom'd in his song:
But Daphne shall now in a Chaplet combine,
Her bright polished leaf with a tuft from the Pine:
Far and near, like a Trumpet, my song shall proclaim,
The Brave Competition,
A Soldier's Ambition,
To rival the Lords of the Ocean in fame.
13
Mature for the Field, and enroll'd in the Line,
You burn with impatience in action to shine;
Well tried are your leaders, and well you may vie,
With all who resolve or to conquer or die;
Far and near, let your own Silver Trumpet proclaim,
The Brave Competition,
Your Ardent Ambition
To rival the Lords of the Ocean in fame.
You burn with impatience in action to shine;
Well tried are your leaders, and well you may vie,
With all who resolve or to conquer or die;
Far and near, let your own Silver Trumpet proclaim,
The Brave Competition,
Your Ardent Ambition
To rival the Lords of the Ocean in fame.
1811
HULL'S INCURSION INTO CANADA
[_]
Air—“Cesar and Pompey were both of them honored.” Sung at a Ball given by General Smyth, at Fredericton, 9th September 1812
Come, tune up and summon, with pipe and with tabor,
Sweet Echo—to sound a Salute to Our Neighbour,
Whom Nap, the Destroyer of peace and good Order,
Persuaded to make an attack on our Border,
Impell'd by the foe to all peace and good Order,
Neighbour Madison made an attack on our Border.
Sweet Echo—to sound a Salute to Our Neighbour,
Whom Nap, the Destroyer of peace and good Order,
Persuaded to make an attack on our Border,
Impell'd by the foe to all peace and good Order,
Neighbour Madison made an attack on our Border.
At his bidding came Hull, and he made Proclamation—
“Choose wisely, Submission or Extermination.”
Full surely he thought, by this insolent Bluster,
To put all his foes in a terrible fluster.
With a medley of insolent coaxing and bluster,
He thought he could surely put all in a fluster.
“Choose wisely, Submission or Extermination.”
Full surely he thought, by this insolent Bluster,
To put all his foes in a terrible fluster.
With a medley of insolent coaxing and bluster,
He thought he could surely put all in a fluster.
Thus confident, once and again he assail'd us,
But courage and conduct, as usual, avail'd us.
When teaz'd with his bouncing and hasty retreating,
We flew to his Rear, and there gave him a beating.
With crossing, recrossing, advancing, retreating,
Our patience he tried, till his Rear got a beating.
But courage and conduct, as usual, avail'd us.
When teaz'd with his bouncing and hasty retreating,
We flew to his Rear, and there gave him a beating.
With crossing, recrossing, advancing, retreating,
Our patience he tried, till his Rear got a beating.
14
His Prog intercepted, no whisky to cheer him,
Though still two to one, yet he thought us too near him.
In short—With Bellona no longer he flirted,
But wisely surrender'd and—not a man hurted!
With bloody Bellona no longer he flirted,
But wisely surrender'd and not a man hurted.
Though still two to one, yet he thought us too near him.
In short—With Bellona no longer he flirted,
But wisely surrender'd and—not a man hurted!
With bloody Bellona no longer he flirted,
But wisely surrender'd and not a man hurted.
On the Shores of Potomack, in Washington City,
Nap's Minions may sing thorough-bass to my ditty;
But all who disdain to fight under his Order,
Will curse Neighbour Madison's War on Our Border—
All true Sons of Freedom will spurn at his Order,
And curse Neighbour Madison's War on our Border.
Nap's Minions may sing thorough-bass to my ditty;
But all who disdain to fight under his Order,
Will curse Neighbour Madison's War on Our Border—
All true Sons of Freedom will spurn at his Order,
And curse Neighbour Madison's War on our Border.
1812
THE BATTLE OF QUEENSTON
Again, with confidence elate,
The invading Foe has found
A captive's unexpected fate,
On our Canadian ground.
Triumphant, as before, though still
Out number'd by the Foe,
Our Chiefs again have shown how skill
Can deal the unerring blow.
The invading Foe has found
A captive's unexpected fate,
On our Canadian ground.
Triumphant, as before, though still
Out number'd by the Foe,
Our Chiefs again have shown how skill
Can deal the unerring blow.
Again we boast—but with a sigh—
A brilliant day's career;
For BROCK demands from every eye
The tribute of a tear!
Devoted to his Country's Cause,
The Soldier's debt he paid,
From age to age, with just applause,
His name shall be convey'd.
A brilliant day's career;
For BROCK demands from every eye
The tribute of a tear!
Devoted to his Country's Cause,
The Soldier's debt he paid,
From age to age, with just applause,
His name shall be convey'd.
1812
| The New Brunswick Poems of Jonathan Odell | |