(From the prose of Parkman.)
Up the St. Lawrence with well-weather'd sails
A lonely vessel clove its foaming track.
None hail'd its coming; the white floundering whales
Disported in the Bay of Tadoussac;
The wild duck div'd before its figured prow;
The painted savage spied it from the shore,
And dream'd not that his reign was ended now,—
That that strange ship a new Aeneas bore,
Whose pale-fac'd inconsiderable band
Were pioneers of an aggressive host
Of thousands, millions, filling all the land,
And 'stablishing therein from coast to coast
This civil state, with cities, temples, marts,
Schools, laws and peaceful industries and arts.