THE HEROES OF VILLE-MARIE.
May, 1660.
I. Tis a tale of those times that afflicted the West, When the exiles of France found no moment of rest. When the yell of the savage, the gleam of his knife, Ever kept the lone settler on watch for his life.
II. The doom is proclaimed! ’twas the Sachems that spoke, And rising, the calumet fiercely they broke; The war-dance is danced, and the war-song is sung And the warriors full-painted, their weapons have slung.
III. Each armed with his arquebuse, hatchet and knife, How they hunger and thirst for the barbarous strife! They have said it: The Frenchmen shall sleep with the slain, Maid, matron and babe—not a soul shall remain!—
IV. They have spoken—those braves of the Iroquois league, Renowned for fierce courage and shrewdest intrigue, Through the Ottawa forest like panthers they tread, As if stepping already o’er pale-visaged dead.
V. Young Daulac, defender of fair Ville-Marie, Has pondered and prayed o’er the savage decree, And a desperate purpose is stamped on his brow, And no one can slacken his ultimate vow.
VI. Will heaven not baffle the merciless threat? Can the gracious Madonna her children forget? If God only grant him his people to save, Then welcome red tomahawks, welcome the grave!
VII. But who will give heed to the patriot’s word? Who will venture to follow the flash of his sword? They must stand to the last bleeding man by his side, And quench with their life-drops the Iroquois’ pride.