The "Fleur de Lys" lies trodden on the ground,—
The slain Montcalm rests in his warrior grave,—
"All's well" resounds from tower and battlement,
And England's banners proudly o'er the ramparts wave.
Slowly the mighty war ships sail away,
To tell their country of an empire won;
But, ah! they bear the death-roll of the slain,
And all that mortal is of Britain's noblest son.
VII
With bowëd head they lay their Hero down,