Th' inconstant moon has passed behind a cloud,
Cape D IAMOND shows its sombre-colored bust,
As if the mournful Night had thrown a shroud
Over this pillar to a hero's dust.
Well may she weep; hers is no trivial trust;
His cenotaph may crumble on the plain,
Here stands a pile that dares the rebel's lust
For spoliation: one that will remain —
A granite seal — brave Wolfe! set upon Victory's Fane.