Category: War of 1812

Visit of the Prince of Wales to Laura Secord by Sarah Anne Curzon

(Chippawa, 1860)  Laura Secord poem poetry

laura secord poem poetry
Edward, Prince of Wales & party photographed at Niagara Falls by Platt Babbitt, 1860.

Now wherefore trembles still the string
By lyric fingers crossed,
To Laura Secord‘s praise and fame,
When forty years are lost?

Nay, five and forty, one by one,
Have Borne her from the day
When, fired with patriotic zeal,
She trod her lonely way.

Her hair is white, her step is slow,
Why kindles then her eye,
And rings her voice with music sweet
Of many a year gone by?

O know ye not proud Canada,
With joyful heart, enfolds
In fond embrace the royal boy
Whose line her fealty holds?

For him she spreads her choicest cheer,
And tells her happiest tale,
And leads him to her loveliest haunts,
That naught to please may fail.

And great art thou, O Chippawa,
Though small in neighbours‘ eyes,
When out Niagara‘s haze thou see‘st
A cavalcade arise;

And in its midst the royal boy
Who, smiling, comes to see
An ancient dame whose ancient fame
Shines in our history.

He takes the thin and faded hand,
He seats him at her side,
Of all that gay and noble band
That moment well the pride.

To him the aged Secord tells,
With many a fervid glow,
How, by her means, Fitzgibbon struck
His great historic blow.

Nor deem it ye, as many do,
A weak and idle thing
That at that moment Laura loved
The praises of a king;

And dwelt on his approving smile,
And kissed his royal hand,
Who represented, and should wield,
The sceptre of our land;

For where should greatness fire her torch
If not at greatness‘ shrine?
And whence should approbation come
Did not the gods incline?

Source: McCabe, Kevin, ed. The Poetry of Old Niagara. St. Catharines, Ont. : Blarney Stone Books, 1999.

Originally published in T.H. Rand, ed. A Treasury of Canadian Verse. 1900.

Click to see more poems about the Battle of Beaverdams and other Poems of the War of 1812 in Niagara

Photo courtesy of Niagara Falls Public Library’s Historic Niagara Digital Collections

 

Battle of Lundy’s Lane, 25th July, 1814 by Janet Carnochan

poetry battle Lundy’s Lane  

poetry battle Lundy's Lane
100th Anniversary of the Battle of Lundy’s Lane Parade – Exhibition of Historical Relics

Upon this hill we come to celebrate
That fateful day a century ago,
How saved our heritage with forceful blow
We meet to tell the tale, but not in hate.
We meet their loyal names to consecrate
Who fought and fell, shall we forget?  Oh no,
But high emblaze their names and proudly show
How nobly stood our sires in danger great,
To tell the inspiring tale that so we too
May meet our hill of difficulties well,
For we have problems hard to solve today
And enemies of greed and gold not few.
Heaven grant us grace their forces to repel
And at the call of duty straight obey.

Niagara, 25th July, 1914.

Source: An Account of the Battle of Lundy’s Lane, Fought in 1814, Between the British and American Armies From the Best and Most Authorized Sources.   Niagara Falls: Niagara Publishers, 1947.

Click to see more poems about the Battle of Lundy’s Lane and other Poems of the War of 1812 in Niagara

Laura Secord by Jean Blewett

Laura Secord. Image courtesy Niagara Falls Public Library

I search the pages of our history over
For a courageous one whose name would stand
For staunchest patriot, and for truest lover,
And prove the same by deed done for the land;
And my heart thrills, for ’tis a woman bears it,
You’ll find it, marble carved, on Laura Secord’s grave;
And you, and I, and every woman shares it,
The right to stand for what is good and brave.

Source: Kevin McCabe, ed. The Poetry of Old Niagara. St. Catharines,
Ont. : Blarney Stone Books, 1999.

Originally published in: Jean Blewett. Jean Blewett’s Poems. Toronto: McClelland & Stewart, 1922.

Click to see more poems about the Battle of Beaverdams and other Poems of the War of 1812 in Niagara

The Battle of Queenstown (October 13, 1812) by William Banker, Jr.

When brave Van Rensselaer cross'd the stream,
    Just at the break of day
Distressing thoughts, a restless dream,
    Disturb'd me where I lay.

But all the terrors of the night
    Did quickly flee away:
My opening eyes beheld the light,
    And hail'd the new-born day.

Soon did the murdering cannon's roar
    Put blood in all my veins;
Columbia's sons have trod the shore
    Where the proud Britain reigns.

To expose their breast to cannon's ball,
    Their country's rights to save,
O what a grief to see them fall!
    True heroes, bold and brave!

The musket's flash, the cannon's glow,
    Thunder'd and lighten'd round,
Struck dread on all the tawny foe,
    And swept them to the ground.

I thought what numbers must be slain,
    What weeping widows left!
And aged parents full of pain,
    Of every joy bereft.

The naked savage yelling round
    Our heroes where they stood,
And every weapon to be found
    Was bathed in human blood.

But bold Van Rensselaer, full of wounds,
    Was quickly carried back;
Brave Colonel Bloom did next command
    The bloody fierce attack.

Where Brock, the proud insulter, rides
    In pomp and splendor great;
Our valiant heroes he derides,
    And dared the power of fate.

 Continue reading "The Battle of Queenstown (October 13, 1812)  by William Banker, Jr." →

The Battle of Bridgewater (July 25, 1814) by Anonymous

O'er Huron's wave the sun was low,
The weary soldier watch'd the bow
Fast fading from the cloud below
        The dashing of Niagara.
And while the phantom chain'd his sight,
Ah! little thought he of the fight --
The horrors of the dreamless night,
        That posted on so rapidly.

Soon, soon is fled each softer charm;
The drum and trumpet sound alarm,
And bid each warrior nerve his arm
        For boldest deeds of chivalry;
The burning red-cross, waving high,
Like meteor in the evening sky,
Proclaims the haughty foemen nigh
        To try the strife of rivalry.

Columbia's banner floats as proud,
Her gallant band around it crowd,
And swear to guard or make their shroud
        The starred flag of liberty.
"Haste, haste thee, Scott, to meet the foe,
And let the scornful Briton know,
Well strung the arm and firm the blow
        Of him who strikes for liberty."

Loud, loud the din of battle rings,
Shrill through the ranks the bullet sings,
And onward fierce each foeman springs
        To meet his peer in gallantry.
Behind the hills descends the sun,
The work of death is but begun,
And red through twilight's shadows dun
        Blazes the vollied musketry.

"Charge, Miller, charge the foe once more."
And louder than Niagara's roar
Along the line is heard, encore,
       "On, on to death or victory."
From line to line, with lurid glow,
High arching shoots the rocket's bow,
And lights the mingled scene below
        Of carnage, death, and misery.

The middle watch has now begun,
The horrid battle-fray is done,
No longer beats the furious drum,
        To death, to death or victory.
All, all is still - with silent tread
The watchman steals among the dead,
To guard his comrade's lowly bed,
        Till morning gave him sepulture.

Low in the west, of splendour shorn,
The midnight moon with bloody horn
Sheds her last beam on him, forlorn,
        Who fell in fight so gloriously;
Oh! long her crescent wax and wane
Ere she behold such fray again,
Such dismal night, such heaps of slain,
        Foe mix'd with foe promiscuously.

 

Source: Poems of American History, Collected & Edited by Burton Egbert Stevenson. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1936. p. 308-309

n.b. The Battle of Bridgewater is better known as the Battle of Lundy’s Lane.