Page:Scenes in my Native Land.pdf/66

Was tremulous with love. For she had left
One in her own fair land, with whom her heart
From childhood had been twined.
                                                Oft by her side,
What time the youngling moon went up the sky,
Chequering with silvery beam their woven bower;
He strove to win her to the faith he held,
Speaking of heresy with flashing eye,
Yet with such blandishment of tenderness,
As more than argument dissolveth doubt
With a young pupil, in the school of love.
Even then, sharp lightning quivered thro' the gloom
Of persecution's cloud, and soon its storm
Burst on the Huguenots.
                                  Their churches fell,
Their pastors fed the dungeon, or the rack;
And mid each household-group, grim soldiers sat,
In frowning espionage, troubling the sleep
Of infant innocence.
                           Stern war burst forth,
And civil conflict on the soil of France
Wrought fearful things.
                              The peasant's blood was ploughed
In, with the wheat he planted, while from cliffs
That overhung the sea, from caves and dens
The hunted worshippers were madly driven,
Out 'neath the smiling sabbath skies, and slain,
The anthem on their tongues.
                                        The coast was thronged