Written on the Terrace, Quebec.
[NEW YEAR'S.]
Alone, beside these peaceful guns
I walk, — the eve is calm and fair.
Below, the broad St. Lawrence runs;
Above, the castle shines in air;
And o'er the breathless sea and land
Night stretches forth her jewelled hand.
Amid the crowds that hurry past —
Bright faces like a sunlit tide —
Some eyes the gifts of friendship cast
Upon me, as I walk aside, —
Kind, wordless welcomes understood,
The Spirit's touch of brotherhood.
Below, the sea; above, the sky,
Smile each to each, a vision fair:
So like Faith's zones of light on high,
A sphere seraphic seems the air,
And loving thoughts there seem to meet,
And come and go with golden feet.
Below me lies the old French town,
With narrow streets and churches quaint.
And tiled roofs and gables brown,
And signs with names of many a saint.
And there in all I see appears
The heart of twice an hundred years.
Beyond, by inky steamers mailed.
Point Levi's painted roofs arise.
Where emigration long has hailed
The empires of the western skies
And lightly wave the red flags there,
Like roses of the damask air.
Peace o'er yon garden spreads her palm,
Where heroes fought in other days;
And Honor speaks of brave Montcalm
On Wolfe's immortal shaft of praise.
What lessons that I used to learn
In Schoolboy days to me return!
Fair terrace of the Western Rhine,
I leave thee with unwilling feet;
I long shall see thy castle shine
As bright as now, in memories sweet,
And cheerful thank the kindly eyes
That lent to me their sympathies.
Go, friendly hearts, that met by chance
A stranger for a little while;
Friendship itself is but a glance,
And love is but a passing smile.
I am a pilgrim,- — all I meet
Are glancing eyes and hurrying feet.
Farewell; in dreams I see again
The northern river of the vine,
While crowns the sun with golden grain
The hillsides of the greater Rhine.
And here shall grow as years increase
The empires of the Rhine of Peace.