The foe moved up on every side,
And made their grand attack;
The old walls blazed in fierce return,
And drove the proud foe back.
Three guns were now brought forward
The mill to batter down;
The “Old Stone Mill,” the good old mill,
In defiance still did frown.
The gunners fell beside their guns,
So hot, so fierce the fire
The British poured upon them
To prevent them drawing nigher.
For two long hours the cannonade
Stormed at the old mill walls—
The good old mill, the brave old mill,
That totters not nor falls.
“Ho, Voltigeurs, and brave regulars!
Form quickly side by side,
And charge the foe’s battering guns,”
The gallant Handcock cried.
And they swept across the open
Up to the cannon’s side—
Those grand soldiers’ hearts were burning,
As an army they defied.
Swiftly through the infantry’s fire,
Up to the cannon’s flame,
So fearlessly they struggled,
Charged and charged again.
Those gallant men could do no more,
And they fell back fighting still,
Gaining once again the safety
Of the sheltering mill.
The fire was now redoubled,
The old mill blazed and roared;
A deadly hail from all the loops
Upon the foe was poured.
’Twas all too hot for Wilkinson
At Lacolle Mills that day,
And he turned about in utter rout
And swiftly fled away.
Heroic Handcock! heroic men!
Thy mem’ry shall not die—
Canadians, join with me to-day,
And shout it to the sky!
Weave, then, a fadeless laurel wreath
For those who nobly gave
E’en life for British liberty,
And this fair land to save.
THE NINETEENTH CENTURY MAIDEN.
O radiant maiden! thou art so fair,
With thy azure eyes and thy golden hair;
The bloom of the lily and rose on thy face,
Thy sunny smile and thy exquisite grace,
The joyous light of thy innocent eyes,
Deep wells of the soul and clear as the skies;
And pure as the snow the sheen on thy brow—
O mayst thou e’er be as stainless as now.
Thy voice is as soft as the summer wind,
Thrilling, pathetic, a music divine;
And wonderful is thy power to-day,
And thy influence and thy gentle sway.
The world does homage to-day at thy feet,
A captive at will to slavery sweet.
Man battles amain the vast wide world o’er;
He delves in the mines for their precious store;
For the gems of the sea, searches far and wide,
Through the rage of the storm and the rushing tide.
Aye, in every clime, and in every zone,
He struggles with might for thee and home;
Stepping bravely to battle to win thy smiles,
Fearlessly leading where the foremost files
Charge to the battery’s flash and thunder—
A hero for thee, to the world a wonder.
With the battle o’er, the victory won,
And hope beaming brightly to cheer him on;
With riches and honors and fame replete,
He seeks but to lay them down at thy feet,
E’er trusting and honoring thee, his pride,
Asking only the bliss to be at thy side.