Brave Wolfe Canadian Folk Song
Brave Wolfe drew up his men In a line so pretty Brave Wolfe drew up his men In a line so pretty. On the Plains of Abraham, Before the city.
The French came marching down. Arrayed to greet them The French came marching down. Arrayed to greet them. In double numbers round Resolved to beat them.
The drums did loudly beat With colours flying The purple gore did stream And men lay dying.
When shot off from his horse Fell that brave hero When shot off from his horse Fell that brave hero. We’ll long lament his loss That day in sorrow.
Brave Wolfe raised up his head, Where the guns did rattle And to his aide he said, “How goes the battle?”
“Quebec is all our own They can’t prevent it “Quebec is all our own They can’t prevent it.” He said, without a groan, “I die contended.”