This page has been validated.
3
The Sons of the earth, the proud giants of old,
Have fled from their darksome abodes,
And, such is the news that in heaven is told,
They are marching to war with the gods.
A council was held in the chamber of Jove,
And this was their final decree,
That Wolfe should be call'd to the army above;
And the charge was entrusted to me.
Have fled from their darksome abodes,
And, such is the news that in heaven is told,
They are marching to war with the gods.
A council was held in the chamber of Jove,
And this was their final decree,
That Wolfe should be call'd to the army above;
And the charge was entrusted to me.
To the plains of Quebec with the orders I flew;
Wolfe begg'd for a moment's delay;
He cried, On, forbear! let me victory hear,
And then the command I'll obey.
With a darkening film I encompass'd his eyes,
And bore him away in an urn,
Lest the fondness he bore for his own native shore,
Might tempt him again to return.
Wolfe begg'd for a moment's delay;
He cried, On, forbear! let me victory hear,
And then the command I'll obey.
With a darkening film I encompass'd his eyes,
And bore him away in an urn,
Lest the fondness he bore for his own native shore,
Might tempt him again to return.
