I.
Below me, as I stand upon this mount,
I see, in panoramic view displayed
So clearly that with ease I could recount
The mighty buildings and the ships fast stayed
Within the harbour, Montreal, the port
Of Canada, and once its chiefest fort.
II.
And, winding through the valley, I can see
St. Lawrence river, and the fields beyond
Of corn and pasture land. The scenery
Reminds me of my native land, and fond,
Yet sad and sorrow-laden, memories
Possess me as the vision meets my eyes.
My native land! still, still I think of thee;
By day and night the oft-recurring thought
Brings intermingled pain and joy to me.
And oft I curse the fortune which has brought
These days of exile and of solitude
To one who longs for peace and quietude.
IV.
My life has not been sinless, yet what sin
Have I committed that my punishment
Should be so great! An aching heart within
Still makes me sorrowful. Why was I sent,
Far from my home, to wander lonely here,
Apart from those whose love I hold so dear?
V.