William McCarty, comp. The American National Song Book. 1842.
Boreals TruceN
And battle-fields, late grim with gore,
Are deck’d as gay as bride;
And war-worn soldiers, friends or foes,
In winter’s quarters snug repose
By lake or border side.
Blockading fleets are tempest-tost,
Thanks to Boreal’s care:
E’en meteor Cockburn’s flaming brand,
By Vengeance and the furies fann’d,
Hath ceased awhile to glare.
Since Mars, in icy fetters bound,
Benumb’d doth quit the field.
Let’s seek that good, in sober mood,
Ere Spring shall mount rebellious blood,
That cool reflections yield.
And many valiant warriors’ gore
Hath drench’d Canadian plains.
Forts ta’en through seas of blood are lost,
Ere conqu’ring chiefs can count the cost,
Or either count his gains.
In martial pride high swells her breast,
Victoria rends the air;
But orphans’ sighs, and widows’ moans,
And dying soldiers’, parents’ groans,
Fall heavily on the ear.
Is dew’d by many a mourner’s tears,
In bitter anguish shed:
May efflorescent genial Spring,
From Belgian shores the olive bring,
To flourish in its stead.