The trumpet has sounded: the lightning flashes, the brass rumbles;
Salaberry appears, valour seconds him,
And three hundred Canadians marching in his footsteps,
Like him, with a cheerful air, are going to brave death.
Eight thousand Americans advance with a sombre air;
Hampton, their leader, in vain wants to count on their number.
It's a dreadful cloud that seems to be thickening,
but that Mars' iron will soon clear up.
The Canadian hero, calm when the iron thunders,
Valiant when he fights, prudent when he orders,
Has positioned his warriors, observed his rival:
He has seized the moment, and given the signal.
On the thick cloud that is advancing against him,
As swift as lightning, the Canadian dashes forward...
The great numbers stop him... he doesn't turn back;
he offers his prayers to the angel of battle,
he implores the invisible help of the Most High;
he fulfills all his duties and believes himself invincible.
The confused enemies howl;
the leader and soldiers make false moves.
Salaberry, who sees that his rival is hesitating,
In the numerous horde has launched his elite:
The cloud opens up; a thousand flashes come out;
The lightning and its flashes are lost in the air.
The pale American's shame unfolds:
The victorious Canadians shout for joy;
Their intrepid leader chains success,
And all Hampton's hope flees into the forests.
Yes! generous soldiers, your valor enchants :
La patrie envers vous sera reconnaissante.
Let a liberal hand, united to sentiment
In engraving the following, offer you a monument:
Here Canadians covered themselves with glory
Yes! three hundred out of eight thousand achieved victory
Their constant union was a rampart of bronze
That repelled the proud American's dashes
Passers-by, admire them... These tranquil shores
Were defended like Thermopylae
Here Leonidas and his three hundred warriors
Returned among us to gather more laurels