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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=450320" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>At the Long Sault</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Searching the pile of corpses the victors found four Frenchmen still breathing. Three had scarcely a spark of life . . . the fourth seemed likely to survive and they reserved him for future torments.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">- Parkman's History</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>A prisoner under the stars I lie, <br>With no friend near; <br>To-morrow they lead me forth to die, <br>The stake is ready, the torments set, <br>They will pay in full their deadly debt; <br>But I fear them not! Oh, none could fear <br>Of those who stood by Daulac's side<br>While he prayed and laughed and sang and fought <br>In the very reek of deathand caught <br>The martyr passion that flamed from his face <br>As he died! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Where he led us we followed glad, <br>For we loved him well; <br>Some there were that held him mad, <br>But we knew that a heavenly rage had place <br>In that dauntless soul; the good God spake <br>To us through him; we had naught to do <br>Save only obey; and when his eyes <br>Flashed and kindled like storm-swept skies, <br>And his voice like a trumpet thrilled us through, <br>We would have marched with delight for his sake <br>To the jaws of hell. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The mists hung blue and still on the stream <br>At the marge of dawn; <br>The rapids laughed till we saw their teeth <br>Like a snarling wolf's fangs glisten and gleam; <br>Sweetly the pine trees underneath <br>The shadows slept in the moonlight wan; <br>Sweetly beneath the steps of the spring <br>The great, grim forest was blossoming; <br>And we fought, that springs for other men <br>Might blossom again. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Faint, thirst-maddened we prayed and fought <br>By night and by day; <br>Eyes glared at us with serpent hate<br>Yet sometimes a hush fell, and then we heard naught <br>Save the wind's shrill harping far away, <br>The piping of birds, and the softened calls <br>Of the merry, distant water-falls; <br>Then of other scenes we thought<br>Of valleys beloved in sunny France, <br>Purple vineyards of song and dance, <br>Hopes and visions roseate; <br>Of many a holy festal morn, <br>And many a dream at vesper bell<br>But anon the shuddering air was torn <br>By noises such as the fiends of hell <br>Might make in holding high holiday! <br>Once, so bitter the death-storm hailed, <br>We shrank and quailed. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Daulac sprang out before us then, <br>Shamed in our fears; <br>Glorious was his face to see, <br>The face of one who listens and hears <br>Voices unearthly, summonings high<br>Rang his tone like a clarion, &quot;Men, <br>See yonder star in the golden sky, <br>Such a man's duty is to him, <br>A beacon that will not flicker nor dim, <br>Shining through darkness and despair. <br>Almost the martyr's crown is yours! <br>Thinking the price too high to be paid, <br>Will you leave the sacrifice half made? <br>I tell you God will answer the prayer <br>Of the soul that endures! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Comrades, far in the future I see <br>A mighty land; <br>Throned among the nations of earth, <br>Noble and happy, calm and free; <br>As a veil were lifted I see her stand, <br>And out of that future a voice to me <br>Promises that our names shall shine <br>On the page of her story with lustre divine <br>Impelling to visions and deeds of worth. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Ever thus since the world was begun, <br>When a man hath given up his life, <br>Safety and freedom have been won <br>By the holy power of self-sacrifice; <br>For the memory of your mother's kiss <br>Valiantly stand to the breach again. <br>Comrades, blench not now from the strife, <br>Quit you like men!&quot; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, we rushed to meet at our captain's side <br>Death as a bride! <br>All our brave striplings bravely fell. <br>I, less fortunate, slowly came <br>Back from that din of shot and yell <br>Slowly and gaspingly, to know <br>A harder fate reserved for me <br>Than that brief, splendid agony. <br>Through many a bitter pang and throe <br>My spirit must to-morrow go <br>To seek my comrades; but I bear <br>The tidings that our desperate stand <br>By the Long Sault has saved our land, <br>And God has answered Daulac's prayer.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Lucy+Maud+Montgomery">Lucy Maud Montgomery</a><div class=q>
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- Parkman's History


A prisoner under the sta..."></div>
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