"Ce n'est rien, ce n'est rien; ne vous affligez pas pour moi, mes
bonnes amies."
Montcalm, calm mount, thou didst not faint nor fail
At that fierce volley from thy foemen near,
Nor at the charge's deafening prelude quail,—
The Highland slogan and the Saxon cheer.
But thou, even thou, couldst not withstand the shock
That broke and bore precipitately on
Tried regiments, La Sarre and Languedoc,
Bearn, Guienne and Royal Roussillon.
Thou couldst but fight as heroes e'er have fought,
With that high self-devotion which transcends
Vain-glorious victory: "'Tis naught, 'tis naught;
Fret not yourselves on my account, good friends,"
Yet 'twas thy mortal wound. Such words express
True chivalry and Christlike nobleness.