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Basile renaud.
193
And put bright jewels on my hands,
  Basile Renaud!
You looked at me as at a star,
You said I was as cold and. far;
I laugh now, thinking what you are,
  Basile Renaud!

He gave me a betrothal ring,
I learned for him to smile and sing;
"Proud Clara, have you found your king?"
  They said to me.
So from the nuns came Angelique
For her farewells; oh! she was meek,
With yellow tresses down her cheek,
  And blue eyes soft to see!

My love beheld her tender face,
Her little hands and gentle grace,—
How dared you give her my right place,
  Basile Renaud?
I scoffed at her, I hated him;
And Marie said—"His eyes are dim;
Were't me—"So ran thy requiem,
  Basile Renaud!

We took our counsel, nor would show
More signs of vengeance than the snow