Had a light heart and merry tongue,
And bright dark eye, was brave and bold,
Skilful to earn, and wise to hold,
And so this hunter came our way,
And stole our wood nymph's heart away;
And it became Belle Marie's lot
To love Napoleon Rajotte

Of all the sad despairing swains,
Foredoomed to disappointment's pains,
None felt the pangs of jealous woe
So keenly as Antome Vaiseau.
A thrifty settler's only son,
Who much of backwoods wealth had won;
A steady lad of nature mild,
Had been her playmate from a child,
And saw a stranger thus come in,
And take what he had died to win.
He saw him loved the best, the first,
Still he his hopeless passion nursed.

At Easter time the Cure came,
And after Easter time was gone,
The hunter brave, the peerless dame
Were blessed and made for ever one

Beside the cottage white she stood,
And looked across the swelling flood--
Across the wave that rolled between
The islets robed in tender green,