As round me they throng, I hear their wild song,
And echo its truthful strain.
The power of man, that limitless span
Of ocean, can ne'er restrain.
But I know that their Maker can challenge each breaker,
And still every wave by His word;
And o'er me a feeling comes silently stealing
Of awe at the might of the Lord.
And sweet is the thought, by memory brought,
That once on the waters He trod;
And my soul seems to be, on the breast of the sea,
Alone in the presence of God.
Then soft on the air I whisper a prayer,
And know 'twill be echoed above:
"Be Thou very near her to comfort and cheer her,
Oh, God, bless and cherish my Love!"
I.
Renowned Quebec, upon its rocky height,
Stands frowning o'er St. Lawrence' noble river;
Well-nigh impregnable, its chosen site
Bespeaks its founder's wisdom, and forever
Should be remembered all the toil and pain
Endured by him, brave Samuel de Champlain.
II.