Читать книгу The Diverting History of a Loyalist Town - Grace Helen Mowat - Страница 4

THE LOYALIST

Wild war and discord once combined

And rolled their deadly thunder,

And here beyond the Western Main

Our Empire rent asunder.

I then forsook my native home

Where long I’d been a lodger,

And in New Brunswick joined my fate

With many a toil-worn soldier.

And in the wide extending woods

I fixed my habitation,

Content to claim the British name

Through life in every station.

I chose to rank myself among

The subjects of our nation—

To brave each want connected with

My forlorn situation.

Grim winter’s fierce protracted reign

Most grievously oppressed me.

Lank hunger raised his pinching hand

And sorely he distressed me.

My children called aloud for bread—

Alas! I’d none to give them.

I ranged the woods, I scooped the flood,

For something to relieve them.

Hard-hearted want at length retired

And smiling plenty hailed me;

I tilled the ground which proved a source

Of wealth that never failed me.

Snug in my cot, grim winter’s reign

No longer now oppressed me;

Lank hunger raised his arm in vain,

No longer he distressed me.

I’ve lived to see New Brunswick boast

A hardy population;

Excelled, in no respect, by those

Of any State or nation.

Her commerce circling far and wide,

Her force and power increasing,

Her soil supplying nations’ wants,

A source of wealth unceasing.

O Liberty! thou goddess bright,

By mortals fondly courted,

I left thy blazoned name behind

Still by thyself supported.

Thou heavenly form! in rustic garb

I freely still embrace thee;

No tyrants here, or slaves are seen,

To banish or disgrace me.

Long live the King! may peace and health

Through many years attend him,

And from the bitter ills of life

May Heaven still defend him.

The above poem was found in manuscript among some old papers; the authorship is unknown.