Hi folks. I've just written a song about Laura Secord, and now I'd like to see what else has been written about her - I'm sure there must be several. I'll copy in the one other I know of below.

Brief background: She was a Canadian hero of the War of 1812. American officers were billeted at her house in Queenston and she overheard them discussing imminent plans to attack the British outpost at Beaver Dams. As her husband was injured from an earlier battle, she made the trip herself to warn of this attack; it consisted of a day's hike of twenty miles, going through the rough country instead of the road, and braving various difficulties and dangers. Because the British received the information, they won the battle the following day.

LAURA SECORD'S JOURNEY - Marion Parsons, 2006

The men of Upper Canada have gone to join the fight
The redcoats and the redmen tried to hold the Queenston Heights
Sir Brock, our daring hero, fell like wild goose from the sky
And my own James was carried home with iron in his thigh
But though the Yankees occupy the whole Niagara shore
The secret I am carrying could win or lose this war.

Chorus:
Oh, grasses, hush your rustling, stand ye up behind my step
Fallen logs, oh bridge me over; sunlight, stay a while yet
Oh, jaybird, pray don't mock me, oh, squirrel, do not scold
Let me pass in silence by: my secret must be told.

The colonel in his insolence, he called our home their inn
And made so free with our good wine, the wine made free with him
"We move tomorrow morn," he said, "To capture Beaver Dams
With ten blue coats for every red, 'twill fall into our hands."
With steady chin and smiling eye I hid my thought from view:
A slender chance of victory, if message could get through!

My goodman could not hope to go, his ruined leg he cursed
"They'll shoot you for a spy", he said, "if wolves don't get you first
There's bog and cliff to bar your way, there's sentries on the road"
I kissed his dear and troubled face. "Oh Jimmy, let me go!
You did your duty for this land: I'll play the part I must
So give the children all my love, and give the Lord your trust."

And through the miles of undergrowth, the creek has shown the way
In fear of making sign or sound that could my path betray
The swamp has claimed my slippers and the brambles torn my dress
The dark will soon be falling and I dare not take a rest
And when my courage falters in the hunger and the heat
I think of all the loyal homes that hang upon my feet.