Saying this Douarnek struck up the song in a full and sonorous voice that reached far over the waters of the Rhine:

"She was young, she was fair,
And holy was she.
To Hesus her blood gave
That Gaul might be free.
Hena her name!
Hena, the Maid of the Island of Sen!
"—Blessed be the gods, my sweet daughter,—
Said her father Joel,
The brenn of the tribe of Karnak.
—Blessed be the gods, my sweet daughter,
Since you are at home this night
To celebrate the day of your birth!—
"—Blessed be the gods, my sweet girl,—
Said Margarid, her mother.
—Blessed be your coming!
But why is your face so sad?—
"—My face is sad, my good mother;
My face is sad, my good father,
Because Hena your daughter
Comes to bid you Adieu,
Till we meet again.—
"—And where are you going, my sweet daughter?
Will your journey, then, be long?
Whither thus are you going?—
"—I go to those worlds
So mysterious, above,
That no one yet knows,
But that all will yet know.
Where living ne'er traveled,
Where all will yet travel,
To live there again
With those we have loved.—"

And myself and the three other oarsmen replied in chorus:

"She was young, she was fair,
And holy was she.
To Hesus her blood gave,
That Gaul might be free.
Hena her name!
Hena, the Maid of the Island of Sen!"

Douarnek then proceeded with the song:

"Hearing Hena speak these words,
Sadly gazed upon her her father
And her mother, aye, all the family,
Even the little children,
For Hena loved them very dearly.
"—But why, dear daughter,
Why now quit this world,
And travel away beyond
Without the Angel of Death having called you?—
"—Good father, good mother,
Hesus is angry.
The stranger now threatens our Gaul so beloved.
The innocent blood of a virgin
Offered by her to the gods
May their anger well soften.
Adieu, then, till we meet again,
Good father, good mother,
Adieu till we meet again,
All, my dear ones and friends.
These collars preserve, and these rings
As mementoes of me.
Let me kiss for the last time your blonde heads,
Dear little ones. Good bye till we meet.
Remember your Hena, she waits for you yonder,
In the worlds yet unknown.—"

And the other oarsmen and I replied in chorus to the rythmical sound of the oars:

"She was young, she was fair,
And holy was she.
To Hesus her blood gave
That Gaul might be free.
Hena her name.
Hena, the Maid of the Island of Sen!"

Douarnek proceeded:

"Bright is the moon, high is the pyre
Which rises near the sacred stones of Karnak;
Vast is the gathering of the tribes
Which presses 'round the funeral pile.
"Behold her, it is she, it is Hena!
She mounts the pyre, her golden harp in hand,
And singeth thus:
"—Take my blood, O Hesus,
And deliver my land from the stranger.
Take my blood, O Hesus,
Pity for Gaul! Victory to our arms!—
And it flowed, the blood of Hena.
"O, holy Virgin, in vain 'twill not have been,
The shedding of your innocent and generous blood.
Bowed beneath the yoke, Gaul will some day rise erect,
Free and proud, and crying, like thee,
—Victory and Freedom!"