Fleurs De Lys, and Other Poems Part 8

Poor, lone Carlotta, Mexico's mad Queen, Babbling of him, amid thy vacant halls, Whose ears have long been heedless of thy calls; Sad monument of pomp that once hath been, Thy staring eyes mark ever the same scene Of levelled muskets, and a corpse which falls, Dabbled in blood, beneath the city walls-- Though twenty years have rolled their tides between.

Not of this world thy vengeance! They have pa.s.sed, Traitor and victim, to the shadow-land.

Not of this world thy joy; but, when at last Reason returns in Paradise, its hand Shall join the shattered links of thought again, Save those that form this interval of pain.

_EQUALITY._

Mad fools! To think that men can be Made equal all, when G.o.d Made one well nigh divinity And one a soulless clod.

Nowhere in Nature can we find Things equal, save in death, One man must rule with thoughtful mind, One serve with panting breath.

The maples spread their foliage green To shade the gra.s.s below, Hills rise the lowly vales between Or streams would never flow.

A million creatures find a home Within a droplet's sphere, And giants through the woodlands roam While quakes the land in fear.

A tiny fall in music breaks Against the mountain's base, While roars an avalanche and shakes The whole world in its race.

One must be weak and one be strong, One huge, another small, To help this teeming world along, And make a home for all.

Equality is death, not life, In Nature and with man, And progress is but upward strife With some one in the van.

_LACHINE._

You named it better than you knew Who called yon little town Lachine, Though through the lapse of years between The then and now, men jeered at you.

You thought by it to find a way, Through voiceful woods and shimmering lakes, To where the calm Pacific breaks On weedy ledges at Cathay.

In fancy you beheld yon tide Upbear a thousand argosies, Whose spicy odors filled the breeze, And floated far on every side.

'Twas but a wish-born dream, men said, And sneered that you were so unwise.

Blind scoffers! Would that they could rise A few short moments from the dead,

To see how, through the power of man, Your vision is no more a dream, And learn that this majestic stream Is now the highway to j.a.pan!

From year to year, with dauntless strides, O'er fertile plains your sons have pressed, Portaging from the East to West, Between the two great ocean tides.

And in their trail they drew a chain Of steel across the virgin land, Uniting with this slender band The eastern and the western main.

Where once the bison roamed, and woke The heavens with his thunderous tread, The tireless engine speeds instead, And tosses high its plumes of smoke.

Like spider in a web, it creeps On filmy bridge, o'er sparkling streams, Or chasms where the sunlight gleams Part-way, and dies amid the deeps.

It scales the rugged, snow-clad peaks, And looks afar on East and West, Then, like an eagle from its nest, Darts down, and through the valley shrieks.

It was not formed by Nature's hand, This sun-ward highway to j.a.pan; O'er mountain-range and prairie, man Has forced the path his genius planned.

And Commerce, universal king, Has followed with unnumbered needs, And scatters everywhere the seeds Of towns that in a night upspring.

In tumult strange the air abounds, The whirr of birds is dying out, The swart mechanic's l.u.s.ty shout Amid the clang of iron sounds.

And streams, that once unbroken ran, Now on their outspread scroll reveal, Written by many a sliding keel, The lordly signature of man.

DE SALABERRY AT CHATEAUGUAY.

We are scarcely one to seven, But our cause is just; Help us in our trial, heaven!

Keep the ford we must.

Swiftly through the reeds and rushes Pours the Outarde flood, Turned by sunset's rosy flushes To a stream of blood.

Sprinkled with the hues of slaughter, Wave the forest trees.

Gently o'er the sparkling water, In the autumn breeze.

Strange that Nature should remind us Of the coming fight!

Let it come--it will but find us Battling for the right.

Never shall the land that gave us Birth be held a thrall: Ere the Stars and Stripes enslave us, Death shall have us all!

Quickly in this silent dingle Raise the _abatis_, Near where Outarde waters mingle With the Chateauguay.

Hasten, Night, across the meadows, Kiss the streams to sleep, Wrap us in thy cloak of shadows, Bid the stars not peep.

Night has pa.s.sed; the birds, awaking, Greet the dawning day.

Wherefore are our foemen making Such a long delay?

Hark! at last they come; now, steady!

Wait the signal gun.

When I fire, fire you. Now! ready?

Fire! Ah! lads, well done!

Like a vaulted wave that shatters On a rocky coast, And in mist and salt spray scatters, Breaks the mighty host.

Like the wave, that swift returning Bursts upon the strand, Falls the foe, with hatred burning, On our little band.

We are scarcely one to seven, But our cause is just; Help us in our trial, heaven!

Keep the ford we must.

Fall the shot-clipped leaves about us Like the summer rain; Charge the bitter foes to rout us Ever and again.