Batelier, prends garde à ton esquif; passant, prends garde à ta bourse: amis, hâtez-vous de rentrer au logis; car la ruine, la désolation, la mort, planent de toute leur envergure sur la ville de Montréal.
Voyez, de l'ouragan c'est le cours furieux,
Terrible, il prend son vol, et dans des flots de poudre,
Part, conduisant la nuit, la tempête et la foudre.
II
Silence! Écoutons:
O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea,
Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free,
Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam,
Survey our empire, and behold our home!
These are our realms, no limits to their sway,
Our flag the sceptre all who meet obey,
Ours the wild life in tumult still to range
From toil to rest, and joy in every change…
Des applaudissements frénétiques accueillent ces paroles lancées comme un défi à la fureur de la nature.
Qui ose porter cet insolent cartel?
Paix! le chant continue:
Oh! who can tell? not thou luxurious slave!
Whose soul would sicken over the heaving wave;
Not thou, vain lord of wantonness and case!
Whom slumber soothes not pleasure cannot please.
Oh! who can tell? save he whose heart hath tried,
And danced in triumph o'er the waters wide.
The exulting sense the pulse's maddening play,
That thrills the wanderer of that trackless way?[27]
[Note 27: Voici la traduction aussi littérale que possible de ce morceau: