But Innocence had breathed her last, one gasp, 'twas all,
While Guilt affright, scarce pausing, fled; once more
The Evening Star shone forth, winds sobbed a lingering call,
The parents listened—useless to implore.
The grave awoke with crimson flowers; new birth attained,
The Evening Star had guided faithfully;
For ever since no grovelling soul has been so stained
But moments come that give some chance to free.
'Twas long ago, in our old Province of Quebec,
This tale at evenfall was whispered me.