Lines On The North-West Rebellion.
By Thomas Frederick Young
The war is o'er, and vict'ry crowns
Our youthful soldiers brave,
And back their homeward steps have turn'd,
Save those who found their grave;
Save those whom rebel bullets fell'd,
Whose martial souls have gone,
Whose bodies rest beneath the plains
Of wide Saskatchewan.
Sleep on, brave hearts! Nor bugle sound,
Nor beat of martial drum
Shall make you spring to arms again,
And to your comrades come.
Sleep on, brave hearts! Nor western storm,
Nor rebel balls you'll feel;
You fought the last campaign of life,
And fought it well, with Riel.
And others wounded in the strife,
Their valor still will burn,
And to the bloody field again,
Their spirits brave return;
Tho' maim'd, and bruis'd, and battle worn,
Their names are honor'd here,
Next to the names of those who fought,
And found a bloody bier.
Oh, British troops are brave,
To charge the foreign guns,
And British spirit shows itself
In our young country's sons.
Long, long may truth and valor strong,
Inspire Canadian hearts,
To meet with steady bravery,
All rebel balls and darts;
To meet all foreign foes, or quell
The sinful rebel's pride,
And teach that right must yet prevail,
That justice must preside;
That law must ne'er be set at naught,
By selfish cliques or elans,
That right must ne'er give way to might,
That liberty is man's.