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 CORY

��And where the waves leapt lower, and the riddled

ship went slower, In triumph, yet in funeral guise, came fisher-boats to

tow her.

They dealt with us as brethren, they mourned for

Farmer dead; And as the wounded captives passed each Breton

bowed the head. Then spoke the French Lieutenant, ' 'Twas fire that

won, not we. You never struck your flag to us; you'll go to

England free.'

'Twas the sixth day of October, seventeen hundred seventy-nine,

A year when nations ventured against us to com- bine,

Quebec was burnt and Farmer slain, by us re- membered not;

But thanks be to the French book wherein they're not forgot.

Now you, if you've to fight the French, my youngster,

bear in mind Those seamen of King Louis so chivalrous and

kind; Think of the Breton gentlemen who took our lads to

Brest, And treat some rescued Breton as a comrade and a

guest.

�� �