CANADA

Montcalm and Wolfe! Wolfe and Montcalm! Quebec, thy storied citadel Attests in burning song and psalm How here thy heroes fell! O thou that bor'st the battle's brunt At Queenston and at Lundy's Lane,— On whose scant ranks, but iron front The battle broke in vain!— Whose was the danger, whose the day, From whose triumphant throats the cheers, At Chrysler's Farm, at Chateauguay, Storming like clarion-bursts our ears? On soft Pacific slopes,—beside Strange floods that northward rave and fall,— Where chafes Acadia's chainless tide— Thy sons await thy call. They wait; but some in exile, some With strangers housed, in stranger lands,— And some Canadian lips are dumb Beneath Egyptian sands. O mystic Nile! Thy secret yields Before us; thy most ancient dreams Are mixed with far Canadian fields And murmur of Canadian streams. But thou, my country, dream not thou! Wake, and behold how night is done,— How on thy breast, and o'er thy brow, Bursts the uprising sun!