CORY
��And where the waves leapt lower, and the riddled
ship went slower, In triumph, yet in funeral guise, came fisher-boats to
tow her.
They dealt with us as brethren, they mourned for
Farmer dead; And as the wounded captives passed each Breton
bowed the head. Then spoke the French Lieutenant, ' 'Twas fire that
won, not we. You never struck your flag to us; you'll go to
England free.'
'Twas the sixth day of October, seventeen hundred seventy-nine,
A year when nations ventured against us to com- bine,
Quebec was burnt and Farmer slain, by us re- membered not;
But thanks be to the French book wherein they're not forgot.
Now you, if you've to fight the French, my youngster,
bear in mind Those seamen of King Louis so chivalrous and
kind; Think of the Breton gentlemen who took our lads to
Brest, And treat some rescued Breton as a comrade and a
guest.
�� �
