The Recollect Church.*

* In process of demolition when this poem was written. The Recollect Friars purchased the ground on which the church in question was built in 1692, and on it they constructed a temporary chapel. The actual edifice, however, was not erected till about the year 1706. The order is now extinct. After the conquest their property was confiscated by the Government, and subsequently exchanged for St. Helen's Island, then belonging to Baron Grant. For a time the Recollect Church served as a place of worship for both Protestants and Catholics, and for many years was exclusively devoted to the use of the Irish Catholics.     Quickly are crumbling the old gray walls,         Soon the last stone will be gone,     The olden church of the Recollects,         We shall look no more upon;     And though, perchance, some stately pile         May rise its place to fill,     With carven piers and lofty towers,         Old Church, we shall miss thee still!     Though not like Europe's ancient fanes,         Moss-grown and ivied o'er     Bearing long centuries' darkened stains         On belfry and turrets hoar -     A hundred years and more hast thou         Thy shadow o'er us cast;     And we claim thee in our country's youth         As a land-mark of the past.     Thou'st seen the glittering Fleur-de-lys         Fling out its folds on high     From old Dalhousie's* fortress hill,         Against the morning sky;     And, later, the gleam of an English flag         From its cannon-crowned brow, -     That flag which, despite the changing years,         Floateth proudly o'er us now.     Thou'st seen the dark-browed Indians, too,         Thronging each narrow street,     In their garb so strangely picturesque,         Their gaily moccassined feet;     And beside them gentle helpmates stood,         Dark-hued, with soft black eyes,     In blanket robes, with necklets bright -         Large beads of brilliant dyes.     Thou'st seen our city far outgrow         The bounds of its ancient walls,     In beauty growing and in wealth,         And free from early thralls,     Till round Mount Royal's queenly heights,         That stretch toward the sky,     In pomp and splendor, beauteous homes         Of luxury closely lie.     Within this time-worn portal prayed         The sons of differing creeds,     And unto God, in various ways,         Made known their various needs.     Better dwell thus in brotherly love,         All seeking one common weal,     Than stir the stormy waters of strife         Through hasty and misjudged zeal.     And for many years the exiles lone,         Who landed upon our shore     From Erin's green and sunny isle,         Did here their God adore;     And laid their aching sad hearts bare         To His kind, pitying gaze,     And prayed to Him in this new strange land         For better and brighter days.     And humble Recollect Friars here         Their matins recited o'er,     And glided with noiseless, sandalled feet         O'er the chapel's sacred floor;     Again, at the close of day they met,         Amid clouds of incense dim     And the softened, rays of tapers' blaze,         To sing their evening hymn.     They and their order have passed away         From among their fellow-men.     Little recked they for earth's joys or gains,         On heaven bent their ken.     The lowly church that has borne their name         So faithfully to the last,     Linked with our city's young days, like them,         Will henceforth be of the past.