Page:Scenes in my Native Land.pdf/66

62 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