The Battle of La Prairie

THAT was a brave old epoch,
Our age of chivalry,
When the Briton met the Frenchman
At the Fight of La Prairie ;
And the manhood of New England,
And the Netherlander true,
And Mohawks swcrn, gave battle
To the Bourbon's lilied blue.

That was a brave old Governor,
Who gathered his array,
And stood to meet, he knew not what,
On that alarming day.
Eight hundred, against rumours vast
That filled the wild wood's gloom,
With all New England's flower of youth,
Fierce for New France's doom.

And the brave old scarce three hundred !
Theirs should in truth be fame ;
Borne down the savage Richelieu
On what emprise they came !
Your hearts are great enough, O few :
Only your numbers fail !
New France asks more for conquerors,
All glorious though your tale.

It was a brave old battle
That surged around the fort,
When D'Hosta fell in charging,
And 'twas deadly strife and short ;
When in the very quarters
They contested face and hand,
And many a goodly fellow
Crimsoned yon La Prairie sand.

And those were brave old orders
The colonel gave to meet
That forest force, with trees entrenched,
Opposing the retreat :
" De Callieres' strength's behind us,
And beyond's your Richelieu :
We must go straightforth at them ;
There is nothing else to do."

And then the brave old story comes,
Of Schuyler and Valrennes,
When " Fight ! " the British colonel called,
Encouraging his men,
" For the Protestant Religion,
And the honour of our King ! "-
" Sir, I am here to answer you ! "
Valrennes cried, forthstepping.

Were those not brave old races ?
Well, here they still abide ;
And yours is one or other,
And the second's at your side.
So when you hear your brother say,
" Some loyal deed I'll do ; "
Like old Valrennes, be ready with,
" I'm here to answer you ! "