Page:A Sheaf Gleaned in French Fields.djvu/51

'One day, a year after, in winter,
To Paris on business I came,
I saw him again the bright centre
Of a court in the old Notre Dame.
Every heart was there content,
Every eye was on him bent,
All cried, "What a glorious day,
God protect thee thus alway!"
That God had blessed him with a son,—
He smiled, such gracious smiles are few,
My heart, the heart of all it won.'
'Oh mother, what a day for you!'

'In the days when our country to strangers
Was given for a spoil and a prey,
It was he who, despising all dangers,
Upheld us, and kept them at bay.
An eve like this, when day was o'er,
I heard a knocking at the door,
I opened;—good God! it was he,
With weary escort, sad to see.
He sat upon this very seat,
"Ah, fearful war!” he said.'
'Mother, it makes our hearts to beat,
To think he here has stayed.'

'"I am hungry," he cried, and quick tripping,
The ale and the brown bread I place;
He dried all his clothes, that were dripping,
And he slept by the fire for a space.
Awaking up, he saw my tears,—
"Hope on," he cried, "and have no fears;
Misfortunes have come,—it is chance:
To Paris, avenger of France,