Long has the reign of war been ended And Commerce crowned, whose stately fleet Brings ever treasures vast and splendid To lay them humbly at her feet. And now her eager sons to-day Have crossed the wild, north-western plain, And made two oceans own her sway Held captive by a slender chain.
What further Time may be preparing For this fair town, the years will tell, But while her sons retain their daring, Their zeal and honor, all is well. Still, as the seasons come and go, Long may they spare the Old Oak Tree In age as erst in youth to throw Protection over _Ville Marie_.
"Silent I have stood and borne it, hoping still from year to year That the pleading voice of justice you would some day wake to hear. But beneath the soulless present you have sunk the glorious past, Till I cannot bear it longer--you must learn the truth at last. Shame upon you, shameless city, heart of this great land of yours, That the world should say you care not if your founder's name endures! Shame upon you, that no statue stands within your greatest square To commemorate the hero who so often battled there! Who long years ago sprang lightly from his pinnace to the beach, And amid the virgin forests, spreading far as eye could reach, Knelt and prayed, his people with him, while the prophet-priest foretold How their growth should be as great as was the mustard seed's of old.
"Have you ceased to care, already, how that noble little band Toiled, and fought with man and nature that their sons might rule the land, Braving winter's cold and famine, summer's hot and stifling breath, Danger in unnumbered forms; and in each form a cruel death, Slain by skulking, coward foemen, now one moment in the corn Singing some sweet Norman ditty, and the next one overborne? Comrades, you have mothers, sisters, wives whom you would die to save, Think, then, of the noble ones who claim your tribute to the brave; Tender women, timid children, crouching at the barricade, Pallid, trembling, stained with blood, yet nerved to give the needed aid, Staunching deadly wounds, and wiping death-dews from a loved one's brow, While their fathers, husbands, brothers fought and won they scarce knew how!
"Think of him among them toiling! hear his simple, trusting prayers! See him, stern, unyielding, hopeful, with a thousand daily cares, Sharing his companions' hardships, cheering there and chiding here, With a head to rule them wisely, and a heart that knew not fear, Sleeping with his armor on him and his weapons by his bed, Ready ever for the foes that, like the shadows, came and fled. See him fighting in the forest with a host that seeks his blood! Hear him praying to the Virgin to restrain the rising flood, Vowing that if she would heed him and preserve the little town, He himself would bear a cross and plant it on Mount Royal's crown! True crusader, in whose heart there never dwelt one sordid thought, Guardian of the Virgin's city: this is he you honor not.