'Tis like a violet in May That knows nor fear nor harm, But cheers the wanderer on his way With its unconscious charm.
'Tis like a bird that carols free, And thinks not of reward, But gives the world its melody Because it is a bard.
Of double depth they made her grave, And covered it with massive stone, And there, where silvery birches wave, They left her sleeping all alone.
These words were chiselled on her tomb: "This grave, bought for eternity, Even to and through the day of doom, And ever, shall unopened be."
For years the passing stranger saw The epitaph of Caroline, And wondered, with a shuddering awe, That it could dare the wrath divine.
Time is of God. He does not need To work his purpose in an hour: Years came and went, and then a seed, Borne downwards by a summer shower,
Fell gently on the scanty earth. Among the heaped-up stones that lay, And soon a tiny birch had birth, And grew in stature day by day.
The sun, the shower, the passing wind, All helped the youthful tree to grow; Its little roots ran far to find Subsistence in the depths below.
Years passed, until at last the tree Sundered the stones, and made the grave Yawn wide, that hoped eternally The ravages of Time to brave.
Vain was the exercise of skill To seal the grave of Caroline; And vain is every human will That strives to break the law divine.
The daughter of a hundred earls, No jewels has with mine to mate, Though she may wear in flawless pearls The ransom of a mighty state.
Hers glitter for the world to see, But chill the breast where they recline: My jewels warmly compass me, And all their brilliancy is mine.
My diamonds are my baby's eyes, His lips, sole rubies that I crave: They came to me from Paradise, And not through labors of the slave.
My darling's arms my necklace make, 'Tis Love that links his feeble hands, And Death, alone, that chain can break, And rob me of those priceless bands.
The incident described in these verses took place during the unsuccessful siege of Quebec by Admiral Sir William Phipps, in 1690. Admiral Phipps, after capturing Port Royal, now Annapolis, Nova Scotia, sailed up the St. Lawrence, in October, arriving at Quebec on the 5th. Frontenac, then Governor of New France, was taken almost by surprise, yet, when summoned to surrender, he haughtily refused to do so, using the words attributed to him in the ballad. Phipps was beaten off, leaving with the French the cannon of his troops and this flag, which had been shot away, and which was picked up by a Canadian, who swam out after it. A medal was struck in France, and a church erected in Quebec, in honor of this victory.