All along those kilted, scarlet lines
Wolfe had flown with swift, hot speed;
“Fire not,” he said, “without the command.
Stand firm, brave hearts, and never heed
Montcalm’s clamorous, advancing lines.
Abide like rocks and never fear;
Listen for the word, and be prepared
When the fierce foe draws very near.”
At last Wolfe’s ringing voice cried, “Fire!”
And thus the welcome order came;
And instantly from that gallant line
Leapt a withering sheet of flame.
The roar resounded through the hills,
And when the dense smoke rolled away,
Revealed was the foe’s torn, bloody ranks,
Where hundreds of their brave dead lay.
Another volley is instantly poured
On Montcalm’s now shattered line;
Then with a cheer that waked the hills,
And a grand rush that was sublime,
They fell upon their struggling foes
With the bayonet’s deadly play,
And swept the French from that gory field
In ruined, disorderly array.
“They run! they run!” shouts an aide-de-camp.
“Who run?” brave Wolfe quick cried.
“The foe, sir,” and then Wolfe exclaimed:
“God be praised,” and calmly died.
For sorely hurt by the first French fire,
Heroically leading the way,
The beloved commander faltered not
Until won was that great day.
And another of immortal fame
Was on that great day laid low
On the red field of Abraham’s Plains,
By the great river’s ebb and flow.
Montcalm, the e’er intrepid Montcalm,
Beloved, revered, and honored so;
A true patriot, with a great white soul,
Gave his life there long years ago!
And ’tis fitting now in after years,
That a united brotherhood
Should bedew their mem’ry with our tears,
Those two who on that great day stood
Contending for their country’s cause.
Time the barriers hath swept away,
And a united people celebrate
In true abiding peace to-day.
’Tis well that from that far-famed field
A united monument should rise,
Upbearing two illustrious names
Toward the glory of the skies.
There, towering o’er the famous scene,
Keeping the watch of death evermore,
Fierce storms of time shall not dissolve
The tribute by the river’s shore.