PART III.

Now turn we to Plantagenet:
Through all these weary, waiting years,
How many hopes and fears have met'
How many prayers, how many tears!
When the time came that he should come
Back to his fair young wife and home,
Often and often would she say,
"He'll surely come to us to-day."
Pet Marie's best robe was put on
And the poor mother dressed with care--
Glad that she was both young and fair--
"To meet thy father, little one"
Oft standing on the very spot
Where she had parted from Rajotte
She stood a patient watcher long,
And listened eagerly to hear
The voyageurs' returning song
Come floating to her ear
But still he came not, years went by,
Yet she must pray, and hope, and wait,
His form would some day meet her eye,
His step sound at the river gate
Oh! it was hard to hear them say,
"He comes not, and he must be dead
Cease pining all your life away,
'Twere better far that you should wed
And Antoine keeps his first love still,