Encamped, the British forces lay;
And as he wrote the fatal word
That gave an Empire to the foe,
The Old Oak's noble heart was stirred
With an unutterable woe.

The army of a hostile nation
Once since hath entered _Ville Marie_,
But we avenged that desecration
At Chrystler's farm and Chateauguay--
Peace! peace! 'tis cowardly to flout
Our triumphs in a cousin's face:
That page was long since blotted out
And Friendship written in its place.

Beloved of Time, the Old Oak flourished
While at its foot its little charge,
An eaglet by a lion nourished,
Grew mighty by the river marge;
Till, where the deer were wont to roam,
There throbs to-day a nation's heart,
Of wealth and luxury the home,
Of learning, industry and art.

No longer now the church bells' ringing
Fills all the little town with life,
Its loud-tongued, startling clangor bringing
Young men and aged to the strife.
No longer through the midnight air
The savage hordes their war-cries peal,